2017-09-06: Good People
- Log: Good People
- Cast: Gwen Whitlock, Cassidy Cain
- Where: November City
- Date: September 6, 2017
- Summary: Gripped by a strange hallucination, Gwen Whitlock attacks an unsuspecting person in the middle of committing a crime. Unfortunately, this unsuspecting person is Cassidy Cain.
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
'Just promise me you'll live.'
Those were Aunt Frea's repeated words when Gwen set off from Boot Hill towards November City, rushing to fill yet another deadline, another job. It would be easy to view them as overly dramatic out of context, but as her adoptive aunt dealt the list of various sins Gwen had committed against the overall concept of 'playing it safe' and 'laying low', it felt all the more incriminating. Sure, it was in the name of altruistic ideas such as 'kindness' and 'friendship', but seeing her aunt lying there in her bed, Gwen had to face the question Frea had approached her with not too long before.
'Would you be willing to kill someone to ensure your own survival?'
Gwen didn't want to think about it.
And she didn't want to think about it when she arrived in November City, a chilly darkness settling in on the town with the arrival of dusk. She didn't want to think about it when she delivered the crate of goods to her happy client, who thanked her for doing a shipment on such short notice. She didn't want to think about It when she tried to stomach some food at a local tavern, then left when the noise kept making her temples pound.
She didn't want to Think about It when, on route from the tavern to the inn where her horse and wagon were safely parked, she did something she rarely ever did: she got lost.
And there, while trying Not To Think about It in the maze pf backalleys and sidestreets that ran through November City like the minute nerves in a human body, Gwen came across something that forced her to Think About It.
Startled by the harsh cawing of a flock of crows, Gwen looked up to see the dark alleyway she was in was set with a distinctive purple miasma, coiling through the streets in every direction. Of course, it merely seems that way; such a sheltered hotspot would be a minuscule roadbump compared to the fields of Malevolence that have already been sighted in select parts of Filgaia.
But Gwen only sees a desolate corridor and the cackling of crows, which morph in her mind into something much, much worse.
Does she dare to finally Think About It?
<Pose Tracker> Cassidy Cain has posed.
The darkened alleyway stretching out before Gwen has a few distinct storefronts, all closed due to the late hour. So it's probably a curiosity in and of itself that the door to the local telegram office, located in that specific stretch of road, opens up, a slender figure emerging from it.
But that isn't what Gwen sees.
It's a monstrous figure, part-avian, part-human, with a protruding beak and eyes that burn a bright, inhuman blue. It looks six feet tall and would have been taller, if it wasn't slightly hunched at the weight of the massive talons weighing down its fingers. The hooked protrusion on its face parts, a piercing shriek threatening to deafen her where she stands. For a while it does nothing else other than look at her, head canted and tilted slightly outward, the way birds in the wild often did.
She wouldn't know where the other crows came from after that, but they are suddenly everywhere, perched on each rooftop lining this dark street. Myriads of red eyes gleam in the dark, tilted towards their direction, as if holding a silent audience in the hall of its king. As the silence stretches, the darkens deepens and becomes all the more oppressive, threatening to suffocate her in its midst.
Finally, the King of Crows finally moves, a large, wickedly taloned foot stamping on hard dirt and sand. In a swirl of midnight feathers, it bears upon her swiftly.
And all the while, those eyes do not move away from her.
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
This place is infested. Gwen needs to get away. She needs to find Sorey, or tell someone that could understand her, maybe Ragnell, that there's danger here, already. It followed them. Maybe, it came in on her caravan, with the Lord of Calamity herself riding out the throes of her curse.
A door to the local telegraph office opens. The redhead draws a shocked breath.
He's here.
He's come for her.
The man with the cornflower blue eyes, who never bothered to give his name, even when asked, has come to take her life. "You couldn't even wait?!" Gwen's muted laugh comes as a shuddering breath. "Why now?"
Hallucinations wouldn't be entirely impossible for the courier to imagine; it was the end of a long day with thoughts bouncing around in her aching mind. She had just come across a place infested with Malevolence.
So it may be a surprise when the previously happy-go-lucky face of Gwen Whitlock, the courier who bumbled giggling through a dig with her around a month or so ago is now drawing a knife in her left hand and advancing, fear curling in her blue-grey eyes, desperation in her movement, and quiet, murderous rage in her croaking voice.
"I won't go that easily."
She can do it, can't she? If it was to save her life? It'd be so easy. It feels as easy as when she entered that otherworldly cavern.
The fact that the same cavern was filled with
She can do it, can't she? If it was to save her life? It'd be so easy. It feels as easy as when she entered that otherworldly cavern.
The fact that the same cavern was filled with Malevolence doesn't quite filter through the haze in her fear-addled brain.
GS: Gwen Whitlock has attacked Cassidy Cain with i'm scared!
GS: Gwen Whitlock has completed her action.
DC: MISS! Cassidy Cain completely evades i'm scared from Gwen Whitlock!
<Pose Tracker> Cassidy Cain has posed.
Past the darkness that has clouded Gwen Whitlock's mind is one very confused Cassidy Cain, who had just been caught red-handed stepping out of a telegram office that has closed for the day. The message tucked securely in her backpocket, she had come across the familiar face of the super courier, a woman she has run into on a few occasions, but has yet to get to know. There had been an intent, there, to sweet-talk her into forgetting what she had seen, but then things take on a strange turn.
You couldn't even wait? Why now?
The blonde furrows her brows, and glances once over her shoulder. "Well, lass," she begins. "Today was a verra busy day, you see, and I dinnae have time tae visit the office during working hours-- "
I won't go that easily.
There's a bit of a befuddled laugh, the conwoman planting a hand on her hip. "What's this, then?" she wonders. "I was nae going tae get violent, luv, I was merely-- "
And then she advances.
Emerald eyes widen briefly; it takes plenty to surprise the thief, and this is one of those moments. She had always known Gwen to be friendly, one of those people perennially equipped with such a good nature that one cannot help but get along with her, no matter what she did for a living. To see her charging with a knife, murderous anger in her eyes, utterly erases the memory of that smiling face entirely.
One of her pistols comes spinning out, and while not usually one to hesitate to kill to defend herself - a debate that she has no idea is presently ongoing in Gwen's conscience - there is something about this encounter that nags her, an ill-fitting puzzle piece to the overall tableau of her present circumstances. It is the thing that prevents her from defaulting to deadly force immediately per her usual wont. Instead, the barrel of her gun hooks against the wicked curve of the blade wielded against her, letting it glance off as she twists away.
Her hand sweeps back in an effort to deliver a swiping blow with the revolver against the back of Gwen's head in a precise whack. It isn't deadly, but it isn't gentle either, always one to put her survival first and foremost and trained to finish a fight as quick as it starts.
"Whitlock! What the bloody hell?!"
GS: Cassidy Cain has attacked Gwen Whitlock with The Long Game!
GS: Cassidy Cain has completed her action.
GS: Gwen Whitlock guards a hit from Cassidy Cain's The Long Game for 66 hit points!
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
The knife that aims straight for the crow king's feathered breast (Cassidy's throat), but is met and knocked away with the crow thing's mighty black beak (the barrel of Cassidy's gun). Gwen doubles backwards, panting, sweat beading on her forehead. There's intent and power in Gwen's movements, but she's lacking the experience in how to make it happen. Cassidy's revolver swipes against the courier's head, its impact registering in the grunt of pain deep in Gwen's throat, and the staggering gait that follows.
That would usually be enough to deter most.
But something isn't letting Gwen come to sanity, whether it be some sort of drug, or the daze following the impact of Cassidy's own blow. "You warned me before, and I'm glad for that. But I can't let you take me just yet. There's too much-..." Emotion cracks in Gwen's voice, damming whatever words that try to get through.
This feels wrong.
But isn't hesitation what gets Gwen? She can't hesitate; she needs to strike first before doubt clouds her thoughts.
Like the pounding of her head.
"I'll show you how real I am." Gwen rushes again with a frenzied, blind rage, drawing her knife in her right hand to draw against Cassidy's dominant arm. Her high shriek frightens a trio of curious crows peering down from above, their flight casting off jet black feathers in their wake to drift down lazily upon the two. "You won't eat me!"
GS: Gwen Whitlock has attacked Cassidy Cain with Comet Clip!
GS: Gwen Whitlock has completed her action.
GS: Cassidy Cain takes a solid hit from Gwen Whitlock's Comet Clip for 92 hit points!
GS: Cripple! Statuses applied to Cassidy Cain!
<Pose Tracker> Cassidy Cain has posed.
You warned me before...
Things become all the more confusing now; the longest conversation she ever had with Gwen Whitlock was in that ruins adventure a few weeks before many Drifters had been forced to move out west. In no time had she dispensed any advice that would warrant it, and she certainly would remember if she told Gwen she wanted to take her.
"Would admit tae taking a liking tae redheads, these days," Cassidy retorts dryly, searching the woman's features and catching the wild look in the woman's eyes. Either someone had been impersonating her and had driven the woman to rage over something, or...
I'll show you how real I am!
The statement is familiar, so much that for a few seconds, it halts all movement from the blonde - a sudden cessation of movement that costs her when Gwen delivers a blow, attacking her right arm. Ambidextrous by nature, she makes a decision immediately, tossing her gun onto her other hand just as the blade gouges a deep wound into her right. Blood sprays in a crimson arc, lost in the darkness of the alley.
The blonde draws back, teeth clenched. An encounter that has started out as strange has become even stranger, but for the time being, she doesn't have the time to put two and two together.
"If only you'd have propositioned me sooner, luv," she tells her, pulling her scarf from around her neck, champagne-colored cloth leaving its frame around a string of bloodstained pearls and tying off her bleeding arm quickly. "But methinks you're nae yourself."
A red light winks in between them, the blonde having dropped it when she moved. The grenade ignites, spraying smoke everywhere, clouds billowing out from the source. She moves quickly, then, in an effort to take advantage of the lack of visibility and the element of surprise. She comes tearing out of the screen, a hand cocking back and bare knuckles sailing for Gwen's jaw.
"Trust me, lass, this is going tae hurt you more than it hurts me!"
GS: Cassidy Cain used Mystic on Cassidy Cain! 100 Temporary HP gained! All statuses cleared!
GS: Cassidy Cain has activated a Force Action!
GS: Cassidy Cain has attacked Gwen Whitlock with The Big Bang!
GS: Cassidy Cain has completed her action.
GS: Gwen Whitlock takes a solid hit from Cassidy Cain's The Big Bang for 96 hit points!
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
The knife, a gift from a thankful client back east, proves to be as sharp in cutting Cassidy's skin as it did cutting rope and cloth. While Cassidy sees Gwen slashing against her right arm, Gwen sees the knife cut through black feathers to the meat underneath, a small arc of red landing in dots against her chest and face.
.... why am I attacking a bird's wing? So it can't fly away? But I want it to go away-
She can't think. The pounding in her head feels even worse. Wasn't there someone talking just before, distantly? Could someone be coming to help?
No, says a tiny, dark fragment from a corner of Gwen. Not yet. I'll kill him myself. I'll show him what pain is. I--
Cassidy is correct. Gwen isn't herself. She doesn't respond to Cassidy's words, nor does she seem to notice the things a sharp eye would pick up, like the red light that drops from Cassidy, signaling a smoke grenade. The ignition causes Gwen to flinch back, smoke successfully cloaking Cassidy's moments. The blonde's fist connects with Gwen's jaw with a crunch, throwing Gwen spiraling to the ground.
In Gwen's eyes, crow feathers clouded the air as the Crow King bellowed, his laughter ringing in her ears.
I'll end him.
Sparks make black spots against Gwen's sleeves as her ARM starts up, cluing Cassidy to Gwen's position as she rolls over, staggering to her feet. Clenching her right fist in front of her chest, the redhead gives out a hollow cry, throwing a pulse of electromagnetic energy in a widening circle around her. The leather of her glove pops off with the action, thoroughly singed.
Yeah.
Gwen's not in her right mind at all.
GS: Gwen Whitlock has attacked Cassidy Cain with St. Elmo's Fire!
GS: Gwen Whitlock has completed her action.
GS: Cassidy Cain takes a glancing hit from Gwen Whitlock's St. Elmo's Fire for 42 hit points!
GS: Disrupt and Jam! Statuses applied to Cassidy Cain!
<Pose Tracker> Cassidy Cain has posed.
Now that, she isn't expecting.
A wild midnight breeze kicks through the leavings of the smoke-fog she had created, ripping through pale-gold tresses, dissipating it further and leaving both women faintly visible. Cassidy's eyes fall on Gwen just in time to see the fabric of her shirt light up with a telltale flare, sparks flying from the cuff of her sleeve. The hollow cry and the realization that the woman's arm is actually an ARM has her eyes widening once more in surprise.
The glowing shot of energy sears through the darkness, banishing it momentarily. Instincts taking over, Cassidy bodily throws herself to the side, her right shoulder and her jacket taking most of the sudden flare, the smell of ozone stinging her nose at the wake of the electromagnetic blast. Electricity runs down her left arm, numbing nerve-endings there and leaping towards her gun. Her lip curls in distaste; she has no choice now. Whatever she's outfitted with had changed the game on so many levels.
She tosses her pistol into her right hand; her left arm is taken up by pins and needles, rendered numb by the literal shock that Gwen had just given her. But it is wounded also - it doesn't stop the thief from trying, lifting up her gun and aiming for Gwen's center mass. Her finger tightens on the trigger and fires.
...except that nothing but a clicking sound emanates from the chamber and hammer, the weapon jammed and unable to discharge, saving the super courier from a potentially bloody maiming at best and death at the very worst.
"Fook," comes the hiss. Curling her wounded arm by the elbow, she pivots and twists sharply, launching the weapon, wrist flicking to give it a whirling spin, aimed right for Gwen's nose. Whether meant as a blow or a distraction, either will suffice, for the woman leaps forward, a streak of gold and red as she rushes towards her, cutting through the remains of the smoke.
No guns this time. It looks like a body blow is inevitable.
Only in the last minute, dexterous fingers draw out the blade she almost never uses, as long as a knife with its unassuming crossguard. She moves low, shifting around Gwen's blindside, the hiss of green mist releasing as it leaves the scabbard. There is a chance, there, to drive it between her ribs and end it once and for all.
I'll show you how real I am!
It suddenly clicks, where she heard something like that before. She switches tracks immediately, reversing her hold on the blade, turning sideways and slashing the drug-laden edge across the back of the woman's knuckles, so fast that it would be hard to keep track of with the naked eye, not until it returns to its scabbard.
"Sorry luv," she breathes. "I promise if you close your eyes for a little bit, you'll realize this is all just a bloody nightmare."
GS: Cassidy Cain has attacked Gwen Whitlock with Trickster's Thorn!
GS: Cassidy Cain has completed her action.
GS: Gwen Whitlock guards a hit from Cassidy Cain's Trickster's Thorn for 115 hit points!
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
If Gwen's words weren't enough of a clue by themselves, the fact that she's not looking directly at Cassidy may lend itself as another. After all, the crouched avian beast that hungers for her doesn't have its beak and painfully bright blue eyes in the same spots as Cassidy's. His wings barely mark the trajectory of the blonde's own. If she had kicked, Gwen would have reeled back at the threat of sharp talons where Cassidy's much smaller feet would be.
Which is what Gwen perceives Cassidy's gun to be, prompting her to do a very similar reaction. Thankfully for Cassidy, it's her left hand that Gwen guards with, the knife managing to slice just enough through the leather of her other hand into the flesh of her knuckles underneath.
The crow is coming for Gwen again. He doesn't seem to react to her pulse of electricity, but that would make sense. He's a phantom. A ghost. He said so himself.
He is not real.
She has no chance to defeat something that isn't real, does she?
The light fabric of the white blouse's sleeve is singed further in Gwen's exertions, revealing the metal of the ARM underneath. Her literal arm.
Her left seems to be effected by the drug, given how loosely it begins to hang from Gwen's body. If Gwen is under the influence of some drug, it doesn't seem to hamper the effects of the one Cassidy just introduced into her bloodstream.
"... I'm a real person. I'm real..." The drug works on dulling the rage next, leaving sluggish desperation and despair in its wake. Gwen stumbles towards Cassidy for one last attack, but her ARM sluggishly refuses to respond, instead hanging from her side like a lead weight. Which, in a sense, it literally is. "I don't want you to eat me."
"Please," she slurs, sleepily. "She's sick. I need t..." With a stumble, she limply falls forward, collapsing under the weight of her drugged body's demands.
<Pose Tracker> Cassidy Cain has posed.
As Gwen staggers towards her, Cassidy takes a step to the side, watching the redhead dispassionately as she falls on the ground, the drug she had introduced to her bloodstream with that one deliberate cut ravaging her system and introducing her to a blessed, dreamless sleep. Releasing a single breath, the blonde takes a step over the super courier and crouches down on one knee to retrieve the gun that she had thrown at the other woman, re-holstering it on her hip. There's another look over her shoulder, a single green eye peering at the prone form.
"Nae anything deadly, lass," she murmurs. "You're going tae be fine."
Straightening, she starts to take a step away, to move back to the beating heart of November City. She'll wake up addled, perhaps robbed, but probably alive - some Good Samaritan will probably have her holed up in one of the hotels or healer's offices in no time.
I'm a real person. I'm real...
The blonde keeps walking.
Please....
Sand crunches under her feet at every step.
She's sick.
It is the last two words that finally stop her. Her shadow crossing over Gwen's, her back turned to her, even if she had the presence of mind to look up at her, she wouldn't be able to glimpse her expression and what comes over it.
With a frustrated exhale, the thief tilts her head back and stares up at the sky.
"Fook," she says again, with nobody to hear or appreciate the single utterance.
AN HOUR LATER...
Whenever the courier awakens, she'll find herself in a spartan room at the back of a local apothecary's shop, the smell of dried herbs and poultices lingering in the air. A single lamp burns on a nearby table, shafts of light spilling from its confines and crossing the mostly dim space. The doorway to the side is open, leading out to the storefront, though its finer details are lost amidst oppressive shadows, indicative that the business is closed for the day.
But how did she get here?
An unmistakeable hint of tobacco smoke traces the air as well, and should her nose follow the source, she would find Cassidy's half-silhouetted form draped languidly on a chair, legs stretched out and a cigarette dangling from her lips. The cherry-red end glows faintly at every inhale, banishing some of the darkness from her pale mien and lighting up the gold in her emerald stare. Whatever injuries Gwen had inflicted upon her have been bandaged up, barely visible under her torn jacket.
Gwen's bleeding knuckles have been wrapped up, though nothing could be done with the bruising on her jaw, or the throbbing ache at the back of her head.
"Always ken you were friendly, lass," she says, looking up from the book lying open in her hand - a treatise on herbs, probably plucked from the shop owner's shelves. "Dinnae ken you were that feisty." Despite the strange turn of the evening, it doesn't stop the woman from looking faintly amused.
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
There's a voice. Someone's here. Something familiar.
That's all Gwen manages to glean from the last traces of her lethargic senses. Blessed darkness falls over the redhead's confused state, blotting out the blurred, warping world.
^^^^^
Ow, Gwen thinks. Ow, that really hurts.
A few moments pass.
Ow, she thinks again. Ow, that really does hurt, someone needs to stop that.
A few more minutes pass.
"Mngh." Gwen's mouth numbly burbles an ungraceful sound as she begins to wake. The right arm at her side shifts, rises-
And pivots to dully splay over her bruised chin as if it was as much her own flesh and blood as her left hand, which, when Cassidy removed the glove over it, proved to be as human as her own. The right, as natural as it seems to work in tandem with Gwen's body, does not seem to have the same sort of components needed for Cassidy's last ditch effort to work, anymore than an ARM would.
"Gnihk!" Gwen's face contorts in a pained snort as she languidly rises, looking at the remains of her blouse's sleeve with a look of befuddlement.
And she stays like that, for a few more moments, almost seeming to consider the benefits of laying down again before her nose catches on the scent of cigarette smoke. "Hnm....?" She turns her head, causing the room to threaten spinning again, but before that, thank goodness, she finds Cassidy. Gwen squints. "Cissady."
Who teases her. "Wh... did I?" Her eyes squint closed. "Wha did ah do?" Guardians, her chin hurts!
Her blouse is not open, but in the next second, she seems to act like it is, flailing her arms over to cover over any piece of skin present. ... Which would be, perhaps, her arms, and maybe her neck.
Then, her brain shifting priorities as more parts whir to life, she prostates herself on the cot. "I'm sorry for-"
what the heck did she do
"- fer whatever i did, ow, m'head..."
<Pose Tracker> Cassidy Cain has posed.
Cissady.
Her amusement grows. "Ay. Close enough."
After a few moments, Cassidy rises from the chair, dragging it over closer to the cot. Turning it around, she drapes bonelessly against the seat, legs parting and adopting a loose straddle around it. Slender arms drop against the backrest, leaning her cheek against one forearm and lashes lowering. As Gwen panics and attempts to cover herself up, the thief keeps looking. She does absolutely nothing to alleviate the courier's embarrassment.
"You should be sorry," she tells the super courier. "Ambushing me out of a bar." Well, it wouldn't be her not to take advantage of the redhead's addled state, considering she had literally come across her committing a case of breaking and entering. "Batting those big eyes at me and taking me out back tae discover the taste of my mouth. Things were just about tae get verra interesting between us, luv. Dinnae ken what had been slipped intae your drink, but suddenly you were trying tae cut my clothes open, and nae in the good way."
She simply can't resist.
"Had tae put you down before things got too serious between us and as cute as you are, lass, I'm afraid I'm nae ready for that kind of commitment. I tried tae be gentle." No, she didn't. "But you certainly dinnae make it easy."
Lips purse. "You kept going on and on, sommat about how you're real, like you're nae sure of it, or someone's nae sure of it. Hollered sommat about not letting yourself get eaten, though really, luv, after how you were going at me, I was starting tae think you were sending me mixed signals." Her pliant mouth curls upwards in a feline smile. "Was verra certain in the beginning of the evening that you wanted me tae."
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
"A-ambush?" Gwen squeaks. It may be that Cassidy might get some 'entertainment' for her trouble in bringing Gwen here, judging by how, when she raises her face upwards to look at Cassidy, Gwen's cheeks are already reaching a nice rosy blush by the mere insinuation that she had tried to do anything amorous to someone else. "I'm reallyreallyREALLY sorry, oh Guardians, I didn't mean to, UGH, the first bit of action I get in a while and it's this, and oh nooo...." Her head lays back down against the cot in despair. "I didn't even know I was into girls..."
And then Cassidy reveals that she had to knock her out to get her to stop. Gwen shoots back up again, horrified, and covers her face with her hands. "Oh Guardians, I knew I was depressed, but not this depressed, I can't tell you how sorry I am, uh, I'll find some way to make it up to you, I promise!"
Wait. She wanted Cassidy to... 'eat'... her...? That she was...
Real.
There's a strange, confused, worried look on her face at that statement. "I'm sorry. I got you all tangled up in some weird problems of mine, Miss Cassidy. Don't take anythin' I said to heart or anythin'. It wasn't about you at all." She rubs the back of her head, wincing as her fingers graze the fine bruise that's developing around there. "I just learned that my auntie is sick. Had a lot goin' through my mind, and- "
What did she do? She can't remember going into any saloon to drink, just eat. She'd surely remember if it was something strong. "Maybe I was drugged."
<Pose Tracker> Cassidy Cain has posed.
I didn't even know I was into girls...
At this point, it is difficult to keep a straight face, but the blonde conwoman somehow manages it. Cassidy turns away to set the book in her hand to the side, the better to hide the spark of mirth threatening to surface. "Ach, well, we can talk about what you owe me later, lass." In her line of work, she's managed to turn the art of collecting favors into an art form. But for now, that isn't what she's interested in.
She picks up a glass of water waiting for Gwen on the table and offers it to her; it is surprisingly not alcohol, but she knows what compound she had introduced to the super courier's system and booze of any kind will only exacerbate its effects, and while she is having a spot of fun at Gwen's expense, she doesn't feel like being a monster for the time being. She's more curious about the last few words the woman utters.
"Just Cassidy," she tells her. "Dinnae think I was enough of a lady tae warrant a 'miss.' " Similar words she had said to Leon Albus before. The mention of her aunt is taken into account, because she can't help it, but she does sideskip that by redirecting the conversation to those earlier words. "How weird is this problem of yours?" she wonders. "That's gotten you so mental over how real you are and people trying tae eat you? I've been around, lass. Pretty sure the only cannibal in these parts I know about is languishing on a palaquin in an old coliseum making oodles of gella out of the fights that happen there."
What.
She waves a hand. "Long story. I'm more interested in yours."
And why you attacked me, she thinks, but those words remain unvoiced.
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
If only Gwen knew. While the courier was no stranger to using the concept of 'owing favors' to her own advantage, she's never had a chance or inkling of what heights such an art could be pushed to.
Cassidy may very well show her, in the future.
"Ah, thank you." Gwen takes the glass with no hesitation, drinking it with a trust that could only be bought through ignorance and a good cover story. Not that Cassidy did anything terrible, really; drugging Gwen was probably the kindest thing the blonde was capable of at the time. Whatever sorrow and rage that was there before is gone now, leaving behind a Gwen that is much closer to the courier Cassidy is more familiar with. "I dunno, I don't feel like much of a lady myself right now either, heheh." She gives Cassidy a sheepish smile. "I mean, yer real nice-lookin' n' all that, but I've been raised with a heckuva lot more manners than to force myself onto someone, even for a kiss."
The blush on her cheeks shifts to a pink blush of shame as the subject shifts slightly over to what, exactly had Gwen so 'mental'. "I guess I just started... thinkin' about how I needed to at least be around for my auntie. She took care of me when I was real sick, back when I was just some orphan out of a podunk town no one cared about. Now, I gotta be there for her, but I don't know..."
How can you explain a problem like Isiris? Or, as Gwen knows him, 'the crow boy with the blue eyes'. "Y'ever, uh, hear about those rumors back east? Around Lacour, thereabouts? About weird sightings, hallucinations, weird pocket spaces? Just, like, flat-out weird." She shifts on the cot slightly, the fabric squeaking subtly under her weight. "I think I came across him. Or rather, he came across me. But he didn't attack me physically, or anythin'. Just said he was gonna come back to me when I'll hopefully be more real. And if I wasn't, he'd eat me. I mean, I appreciated the warnin' n' all, but when I thought about my auntie, I just kinda wondered... what'd happen to her if I vanished like those travelers? Just... never thought about it. I mean, dyin' was something that was old hat to me, with bein' sick n' all, but... uh... I'm kinda ramblin', sorry."
<Pose Tracker> Cassidy Cain has posed.
But I've been raised with a heckuva lot more manners than to force myself onto someone...
"Well, you dinnae have tae worry about that, lass. I was willing," Cassidy says, with nary so much of a hint of the truth on her pale mien. "I was alllll ready tae plant a good one on you, but then you went a little crazy, proposing marriage one moment and then screaming about sommat wanting tae eat you. It had tae happen, luv. Like I said, I tried tae be gentle." She angles a sidelong look at Gwen. "So I take it we're nae eloping come sunrise like you said? Alas, alack, the tragedy of it. And here I was planning tae wear white."
With Gwen returning to her friendly, good-natured self, lashes lower - enough to hide the expression within those virid, gold-veined depths. Her worry for her sick aunt is apparent, if not just because this is the third time she has mentioned it, and to someone that she doesn't know very well - eager to provide an explanation for her behavior, or simply one who has no qualms letting people in her life, no matter how vulnerable that makes her. People like Gwen have never ceased to hold her fascination in that regard, no matter how adamantly she refuses to live her own life that way. Still, it is interesting to watch...and experience.
It resonates, too, but for reasons she absolutely refuses to dwell upon at the moment.
Mention of those old rumors has her lifting a brow, but the longer Gwen speaks, the more she confirms it. When she is finished, the blonde presses her cheek against one of her forearms.
"Everyone dies, eventually," she tells the other woman simply. "All the more reason tae make sure that you live a life worth living, ay? As for your weird problem..."
She takes another deep inhale, her cigarette's cherry end glowing all the more garishly crimson in the dark. "What if I told you the lad you were talking about is just a man? Unusual, ay, but he bleeds just like you and I. And like I'm fond of saying tae anyone who would listen, lass - if you can bleed it, you can kill it."
It might just be her way, to speak of something so strange and harrowing as if talking about the weather.
Either that, or she could be speaking from personal experience.
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
All it takes is a little bit of flirting, and Gwen's simply gone, back to the stuttering, bashful young woman she was before. Cassidy didn't even need to be close to Gwen's idea of the perfect date, the inspiration for which is probably someone she'd deny was someone she was attracted to. "P-p-p- "
Give her a few minutes. She needs to work through this on her own.
Gwen's logic is foolhardy, to be sure; she forced her affections on Cassidy due to the effects of some elixir of debauchery or something to that effect, and Cassidy had to properly knock her out in order to escape said affections. An explanation was needed, and it was a weak one at that, in Gwen's own estimate. Never did Gwen think that Cassidy could be lying to her, or that she could be a danger.
Cassidy was simply a swell person who saved her.
And someone needed to know this. "Yeah. Just... I never considered what happened to anyone left behind. I guess I was... kinda selfish, there." A life worth living, huh?
'What if I told you the lad you were talking about is just a man?' Gwen's expression wrinkles as she takes another drink of water. "Yeah, but how-"
She stops, going stark white.
Oh. Yeah.
"I guess that's it," she mulls with a downcast sigh. "I guess before I could even get to 'how', it's more just 'could I'..."
Her eyes go wide. "Holy c-cow! Did I try to- OH GUARDIANS, I'm really sorry, Cassidy! I dunno which is worse, but making me tryin' to hurt you is worse, but me trying to kiss you is probably just as bad, but either way, you had to knock me out and that's just.... ohnoohnoohnoooo...." She smothers her face in her hands, her face burning with shame.
Wait.
Why did Cassidy talk about killing someone like this man so casually? "... Like, this guy's really dangerous, too. So, I mean, killing him may be out of the question as it is. I mean, he's just a guy, but I'm in that same camp too. And he knows how to do the spooky stuff." She squints. ".... unless... did you happen across him too?"
<Pose Tracker> Cassidy Cain has posed.-
At her stuttering, Cassidy keeps a level stare on Gwen, letting her work out the (absurdly made up) events of the evening, content to let the falsehood stand as the redhaired courier blushes, turning so scarlet that even without the lantern by her borrowed cot, she would light up the entire room. There is something rather endearing about the picture she makes, though she would never admit it to anyone.
It is a testament as to how practiced she is at spinning these tales, when she could keep such a straight, direct expression while everything inside her has broken out in riotous laughter.
Some would say it'd be cruel to play around with someone so innocent, but she can't help it - not only was it easy, not only did the woman walk in on her committing a crime, but she attacked her. She had to pay for it somehow.
More embarrassment. She gestures loosely with a hand. "Ay, well. Always knew you were friendly, lass, but dinnae ken you were dangerous, too. That's nae exactly sommat you can attach tae your person every day." She nods to Gwen's exposed arm...that's actually her ARM. "Anyway, you dinnae hurt me too badly. Nae anything I cannae walk off at least, though it did make me curious about all the other shite you were saying."
If she sounds too casual about taking a life, it is probably because she is - to her, there is no contest. If a choice existed between preserving someone trying to kill her and saving her own skin, she will pick the latter every day and twice on the weekends. But when that last question finally comes tumbling out...
"He gets around, that one," she muses. "For someone who fell out of the sky. If you're talking about a lad who has beautiful but inhuman blue eyes and can make you second-guess what you see with illusions that come out of the literal ether with nae any help from runes, then ay. I've met him. Was lucky tae get away." She winks at Gwen. "Nae exactly the fighting type, y'ken. More of a lover than a fighter, me."
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
It's the side effect of Gwen's persona: while it is her to a very big degree, it's also a shield. It just so happens that being that happy-go-lucky innocent courier means she's really, really fun to tease.
At least Gwen seems to recover from it quickly enough.
'That's nae exactly sommat you can attach tae your person every day.' Gwen looks over at her bared ARM, as for the first time, then demurely slaps her left hand over it, as if making a vain attempt at covering it. "This 'ere? Y-yeah, I suppose. It's the only way I survive with my job." That very same hand reaches back to itch at the back of her neck. "People like to prey on innocent little things like me out in the middle of nowhere. Don't need to hurt no one, just a little show, and they run. But that was, er, before Metal Demons became a thing. Again. Not someone's as liable to shoot me as anythin', eheh..."
"So you... met him? And you escaped?" She shifts her weight forward, listening. "I guess that ain't too unbelievable, seein' as how I did the same, but. I think he was more unimpressed with me then anythin'. I just wasn't 'real' enough." There are parts she'll conveniently leave out, of course- like the fit about the burn scars, and how she felt on the day she received them. How her answer didn't seem to give him what he came for.
The way his appearance as a young preteen boy stirred a degree of sympathey from her. Enough for her to be comfortable with his presence, for better or worse. If that was him.
Was it?
"He fell from the sky? Is that what he told you? Huh." She leans back on the palms of her hands. "He didn't really tell me nothin'. 'Course, what I saw was no man, but a young boy. But he had the same eyes. An impossible blue. Like, I have a friend who has blue eyes, but they ain't blue like those."
Her own gaze, a soft bluish grey, soften as she looks Cassidy over. "Did he hurt you any? Or did he let you go 'cause he wasn't satisfied with you either?" Nevermind that Cassidy offered her reason for being alive already. "What did he look like? Was he a young boy then, too?"
<Pose Tracker> Cassidy Cain has posed.
"Ay, I s'pose being what you are means you have tae deal with all sorts. Plus Filgaia's nae exactly a place lacking of souls who would shoot messengers if they get piss poor news from wherever," comes Cassidy's assessment. "Maybe that's why you've got the heart you do, luv, tae compensate for the lack of it out here in the Badlands. Nae anything out here but blood and bones, and shattered hopes."
Pause.
"Mean that literal, too. There's a town called Shattered Hopes further out west or thereabouts." Grim mirth brims within that virid stare. "It's aptly named."
When Gwen asks her more about her encounter with Isiris, the blonde whittles down her cigarette to the nub, before she lets it die against the filter. "That's why all your delirious yelling sounded familiar. Lad's got some obsession with reality and completeness - whatever got him broke him a long time ago, methinks. You dinnae get that way being sane and righteous your entire life."
More amusement than anything flits through her expression. "If you mean he injured me..." and she clearly makes a distinction between that and being 'hurt'. "...then ay, he did. That one dinnae ken how tae hold back, it's not in his nature. As for why he let me go...who bloody kens, lass? If you're trying tae find any sense with that kind of lot, you're wasting your time. I know it's human nature tae try tae understand someone else, but the only thing you need tae understand is that you're better served staying away from him, and running when he comes calling. Like I did."
Another lie.
"Because as cryptic as he tends tae be, dinnae think all of it was bullshite - the part about falling from the sky, for instance. There's dangerous things..." Dangerous people. "...up there. And he's got enough skill with that crazy sword of his tae make me believe it. These are the kind of people you dinnae want tae be interesting tae."
She fishes for another cigarette. "Anyway, he's tall, wears a gray coat, stark blue eyes - you'll probably ken him when you see those. About my age or thereabouts. Nae like I'm going tae tell you that." Her good humor returns. "I like tae keep some mystery, myself."
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
"There's actuall-" Cassidy gets to it first. Gwen chuckles. "Well, if there's one thing the Badlands have in spades, it's dark humor. Gotta know how t'laugh at yourself, y'know?"
Cassidy's compliment belatedly seems to bring the courier further out of her mortified shell, bringing a smile to her lips. She nods. "Yeah... though I didn't get this way on my own. Kindness is somethin' that's gotten be cultivated or shared by those that can afford to do it. That's the only way it can survive in this world." Her smile grows lopsided. "Though I suppose that makes it like a virus, or-"
Malevolence. "Oh -damn-, I can't believe I forgot about that!!" Gwen flops back on the cot, her left hand draped over her face. "Oh, man, I'm gonna have to somehow track that Shepherd guy and somehow find that place again, and maybe I need to get all purified too... This is gonna be embarrasin'..."
As she groans, Gwen begins to realize the fact that Cassidy... is still there. And likely, very very confused. "Okay, uh, I think I ran into a patch of this stuff called Malevo- wait, you were there at that meeting with that Sorey guy, right? Huh, um. I guess, it really liked whatever I was on about right then, because I... er..." She trails off again.
Crows. The goddamn Crow King. "Oh nooo, I tried to punch you because I thought you were a giant crow!" Now both hands are draped over her face. "I owe you, like, a hundred favors now. Or a million, even. I tried to kiss you and then I tried to punch you because I thought you were a crow! And you don't look like a crow at all."
The subject thankfully drifts back to Isiris, causing Gwen to sit back up, sipping from her glass of water. "Y'think? Poor guy... Wonder what kinda things could break a man in that exact way." She knows the ways drink, drugs, and vice could, but none of the sorts of despair that she's seen in Little Twister and other similar places could really amount to a man like this. "If the sky does that to people, the sky can keep its secrets and its things to itself."
The blue eyes should be enough. "I just hope I'm lucky enough next time. Did he just let you go, or did you do something that made him let you go? Not that I'm thinkin' the same trick'll work twice, but it's better than whatever the heck I'd try, I'm sure. I mean-" She motions to her head. "You could've killed me, even with my ARM n' all. It ain't hard."
But Cassidy didn't. And due to that, more than anything, she's earned quite a few points in Gwen's book of friends. "... Thank you."
<Pose Tracker> Cassidy Cain has posed.
She knows about Shattered Hopes, but that shouldn't be surprising given her profession. Still, the acknowledgment earns her a grin from Cassidy; a blade-sharp expression that cuts through the half-dark surrounding them both.
"You can say laughter is a favorite defense mechanism," she tells her lightly.
Kindness is something' that's gotten be cultivated or shared by those that can afford to do it.
"Ay, well. Good thing you're being generous tae the ones who dinnae think they can afford it."
The lighter comes out, a well-loved silver thing, simple save for the delicately engraved ouroboros on the front plate, its only embellishment a pair of sapphires to stand in for its eyes. She strikes the flint, lighting up her fresh cigarette and while she does, she lets Gwen lament on the cot. It is difficult to say whether she is paying her due attention, or letting her vent. The mention of her intent to be 'purified', however, doesn't escape her, though she doesn't inquire about it further either.
And so there she remains, draped against the backrest of her chair, letting smoke escape her lips as Gwen frets over what she has done on the couch. "I was nae kidding about mixed signals," she says soberly, looking the very picture of the aggrieved party. "But I s'pose with the right favor, I just might forgive you. Nae that I'm mad tae begin with. Like you said, sometimes all there's tae do is laugh at your circumstances."
Wonder what kinda things could break a man in that exact way.
Her stare lids at that, something much more unreadable falling into the look in her eyes. "Methinks that's probably an avenue of thought you best be avoiding also, luv," she murmurs from around her cigarette. "You dinnae want tae see where that road leads."
If the sky does that to people, the sky can keep its secrets and its things to itself.
"Ay," she says simply, finally standing up from her seat and putting the chair away. "If it were only that simple, lass. You would nae be wrong, though, tae think that only monsters live up there."
There's a glance at her lighter at that, moving to slip it in her pocket.
"Me?" She looks up, giving Gwen a hapless smile. "All I did was run. Run and dinnae look back. Dinnae touch him, dinnae even look at him, dinnae even speak tae him or give him anything he could use tae get in my head. I just ran until I could nae anymore. Though that might nae always be possible. He could make you think you're nae getting anywhere. I think the most helpful advice I can give you, if you come across him again, is nae tae believe what you see. It'll take some doing, but if you've got the will...use it. And if there's nae getting away from him..."
She pauses.
"Then you're going tae have tae bleed him. Magic dinnae agree with me, y'ken, but I ken enough tae ken that if you destroy the source of the spell, you'll be free of it. And if you even so much as hesitate....you'll die, luv. That's the honest truth of it."
And that is not a lie.
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
'Good thing you're being generous tae the ones who dinnae think they can afford it, luv.' "Bah." Gwen shakes her head. "You brought me here, right?" The content smile is hidden by the last gulps of her water. "I mean, yeah, these bruises are gonna take a while to heal, but I suppose that's a kindness in itself. Make sure I don't forget how much I screwed up t'night." The glass of water is set down on a surface besides the courier, condensation beginning to bead on its surface. "All the kindness and good will in the world ain't worth nothin' if you're dead. So, for a chunk of my life, I couldn't afford it. Now, well. I guess I just realized that life's too short."
It's the opposite, of course. To see what was the setting sun on a short life turn into a dawn of a much longer one was enough to change everything. If someone was going to take that sun, that promise away from her...
Maybe it could be in her to be cruel.
As Cassidy debates favors, Gwen wags a finger. "C'mon, I of all people should know the value of a favor. Just... nothin' illegal, of course. But bein' we're in the Badlands, the meaning of that is a lot more loose, y'know?" One of these days, Gwen will find out Cassidy was one of the people that went with Noah and Morgan to sabotage those golems before the Metal Demon attack. And she will remember to fear any time Cassidy calls on her for 'a favor'.
As Cassidy warns Gwen, the redhead flops back, both arms splaying to either side. "Don't have to tell me twice. Jus'... I guess I still think of him as a boy. The way he talked, and how he acted... I could kinda see some of myself in him. He was all bashful, too, just like a young boy just realizin' that he was attracted to girls. But I guess... that's part of the deception, right? Was that him, or was that what I wanted to see?"
The thought of the sky raining monsters worms into Gwen's mind, making her groan. "Gh, don't make me think 'bout that. I don't wanna believe there's some sort of Sky Worms up there like there are down here, in the sand. The sky's supposed to be a symbol of aspiration. Open roads, open skies, the neverendin' horizon, expandin' onwards. Possibilities! Not, uh, monsters. Though I guess it can spawn dust storms and nasty electrical storms, so I guess it ain't that far off of a possibility..."
She's rambling.
"Running, huh." The courier closes her yes, pale red lashes matching the faint color of the freckles on her cheeks. "Feels sad now to run from 'im, but I got stuff I can't afford to lose now, just like you did."
She's assuming.
"I'll run n' run, and when I get out, I'll message you and tell you that I owe you another favor. How's that sound?"
She's hoping.
Hoping that it'll never come down to the next tactic, which is... "Right." Gwen nods grimly. No more stupidly wandering after weird glowing feathers, or inquiring after inquisitive blue-eyed crows. "I guess... if it came to that point, that'd be a kindness in itself, wouldn't it?" She closes her eyes. "If he's that much in pain, I guess... If that happens, I'll call you then, too."
She's dreading.
"I might need someone to talk to, then. And if he visits you first, well... I guess you'll just have to message me." She slowly sits up, placing her feet on the ground. "I won't judge ya. For runnin' or for killin' him. People do what they have to, in order to survive. And understandin' that is one of the most charitable things any one of us can do when we're judgin' someone else, I guess."
<Pose Tracker> Cassidy Cain has posed.
Bah, you brought me here, right?
There's nothing further from Cassidy at that, just a small smile and a shrug; at this point, there are two ways she can respond - accept the misunderstanding, or destroy the woman's good-natured interpretation of what happened, tarnish her image in front of a soul that is determined (God only knows why) to see the best in everyone. Here, she elects to do the former - not out of laziness, or even out of a desire to believe she is capable of doing good now and then, but rather she already knows that there's little she can do to damage that part of Gwen.
And perhaps a part of her doesn't want to.
Maybe people like you and me just aren't built like good people.
We're not, she tells the memory inside her head in agreement. But we can leave all of that to the people that actually are instead of pretending to be that ourselves.
"Well, someone's got tae balance out the way you look through those rose-colored lenses, luv," the blonde replies with a smirk. "Skies are full of that, too. But that's just life, lass. Nae everything can be good and nae everything can be bad."
But I got stuff I can't afford to lose now, just like you did.
There's a blink at that, brows lifting towards her hairline. It's a bold assumption, but not a wholly inaccurate one - Gwen has already surprised her a few times today; this is another piece, another unexpected fragment. It could just be her optimism, how could anyone interpret her words about living in any other way, after all? But it could be an honest observation as well - and one that she might not have even realized herself.
Was it true?
A gnawing sense of unease curdles in her stomach and one she attempts to banish with a deep inhale of her cigarette.
"There is such a thing as being too generous, lass," she says, finally plucking her hat from one of the spokes at the foot of the cot, drawing it over her head. "Your sympathy will either save you or kill you, and probably the latter, mind, as far as Sky-Blue is concerned. Would nae want tae see it come tae that. After all, I meant what I said."
She winks at her from under the brim, her smile cutting apart the shadows within. "I'm fond of redheads."
With that, she starts moving for the door.
"Dinnae stay too long, by the way. I dinnae exactly ask permission tae use this space."