2017-09-23: Keep the Light Going
- Log: Keep the Light Going
- Cast: Rudy Roughnight, Gwen Whitlock
- Where: Little Twister - Hangman's Noose Saloon
- Date: 9/23/2017
- Summary: While life in the Badlands has brought with it its share of fortunes, it hasn't been kind to Rudy. Coming across a concerned Gwen , the two Drifters have a rare talk, and gain new resolve in the process.
================<* Little Twister - Hangman's Noose Saloon *>================= The Hangman's Noose Saloon is the most popular saloon in Little Twister, for the moment. It's named after Hangman Jack, a former executioner from Aveh who fled when the royal family was murdered. He keeps the peace within his bar, in the sense that he insures any damage caused by any fights is paid for by anyone but him. The saloon is a darkly lit place, serving strong drink and good food, and offers some rooms up above. They are regarded as being among Little Twister's safer rooms. The saloon floor is a common meeting place for Drifters, and its many tables and bar provide a place to congregate, gamble, and get in trouble. BGM: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZsDghd0hm7A
<Pose Tracker> Rudy Roughnight has posed.
Within the Saloon, the young boy drinks the water in the darkness of the saloon, his empty plate suggesting that he had a small and simple meal, only a few crumbs and scraps of gravy to suggest what sort of meal he had consumed. All around him, there are people that point and talk, conversations that come here and there.
"Did you hear? That kid was able to use an ARM."
"So, a lot of people have ARMs."
"Not just an ARM, like the kind people shouldn't have. It was able to drive out a Metal Demon on its own. The Beskar man said that power isn't the sort people shouldn't have. He shouldn't have."
"Maybe we should get that gun then."
"You want that?"
The trio of men look and stare at Rudy for a moment, who is merely looking into his simple tin cup as if trying not to overhear the people talk and stare. The hardened man just seems to look at the Roughnight merely stating "Something ain't right about him" before going back to his drink. It seems Rudy has earned peace within Twister Town for himself, but at the cost of perhaps something far worse.
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
If there's a drive more powerful than greed, it's got to be a tie between envy and fear. One can have all the gold and items in the world, but the moment they covet something someone else has, they're driven not just by the need to gain wealth. And if fear is added to the mix, it's even more deadly.
Back in Little Twister on another errand for another Drifter that was last seen haunting the dusty streets of the town, Gwen takes refuge from the heat of the overbearing sun by passing into the slightly cooler confides of the dark saloon. Her passing gains a few stray stares from patrons for various reasons, before everyone goes back to what they're currently engrossed with. "Need somethin' light," she says to the bartender, causing a few guffaws from patrons. Of course she'd want something like that; an innocent-looking young woman probably couldn't hold a drop of liquor in her without bowing over at the weight.
It's better to be dismissed as harmless in this town; Gwen seems to take no notice of the trailing snorts. She does, however, take notice at the mention of 'a kid', along with the mention of 'ARM', and 'shouldn't have'. She looks about, about to demurely say something, when her gaze comes across the dining Rudy. Moving from her spot at the bar, Gwen makes a spot of walking over, giving Rudy a soft, friendly greeting before asking, "Nice t'see a familiar face 'round here! Mind if I keep ya company?"
<Pose Tracker> Rudy Roughnight has posed.
The soft eyes of Roughnight looks up as he smiles softly and briefly. "Sure," he states softly. "Though, I guess-" Rudy glances toward the voices that he had heard previously. He takes a long swallow and his cheeks redden faintly. There is clearly something awkward about this situation as the boy gives a few uncomfortable shifts in his seat.
Silence carries for a short time before he speaks.
"I don't deserve pity," he finally confides.
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
As Rudy smiles, Gwen's expression follows suit for a moment, then fades as Rudy shifts nervously in his chair. She discreetly looks up in the direction of the comments she overheard earlier.
This place.
These people.
This town.
It'll drive the soul right out of any man, just as their own had before.
"I put up with it when I have to," the courier begins, before sitting down by the young Drifter. The volume of her voice lowers, to avoid being overheard. "I don't like bein' alone in here. Makes a person self-conscious. Y'willin' to keep me company while I cool off a bit? It's hot as blue blazes out there."
Accepting the drink as it's brought out to her, she drinks it down, the full force of her earlier thirsty state hitting her full force. She then sets the mug down with a long sigh. "No. It ain't pity. Actually, wanna split? I could use the company for a bit."
The way Gwen looks at Rudy fill in the rest: 'you look like you need it too.'
<Pose Tracker> Rudy Roughnight has posed.
"Yeah, that would be good," comes the simple admission as the outcast merely seems to take in all the previous words with a simple acceptance of the wisdom offered.
The chair is slowly pushed back as Rudy rises, making sure his weapon in question is covered before looking to take Gwen's lead and following her lead to wherever she goes, whether it be upstairs, outside, or wherever she can think of. As long as it isn't 'here', it doesn't seem to matter to the blue haired boy.
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
Pressing a few gella down for the drink for the bartender to take into his hand, Gwen nods her thanks and turns her head towards Rudy, looking to see if he's ready to go, before leading him out.
Where does Gwen lead Rudy?
Outside. Because even if it means going back into the hot street, it's become preferable than to stay inside there, with the sorts that dine on other's cheer and hope in order to get through another day. It's one way to survive, out here in the middle of nowhere, but it's not one she cares to fall into. Too many of her childhood friends are now gone because of it, with only a few 'lucky' sorts still alive today.
If you could ever call Janus 'lucky'.
When her face hits the heat of the sun just outside the porch, she does a wince, but with the thirst in her throat gone, it's far more bearable. "This way." She directs Rudy across the street to her awaiting wagon, parked in an alleyway in the shade of a building for Gulliver's sake. Wth the cover up, there's some shelter from the sun offered, but the coolness involved doesn't quite reach the temperatures offered at the saloon.
But it has something the saloon doesn't have: privacy.
Without much in the way of explanation, Gwen looks back and forth, then behind her as she walks over to the wagon, making sure no one's immediately following them. "Okay. Let's cool off in the wagon. That way y'won't feel like y'need to keep lookin' over your shoulder." Running her hand along the doting Gulliver's head and neck as she passes, Gwen jumps up into the wagon's end, turning around to offer a hand to Rudy, if needed.
Her next question is blunt, but sympathetic in the soft tones of her voice. "Y'wanna talk?" Then, even softer, "It's okay to talk. And it's okay not to, too." She sighs. "The money can be good here for bounty hunters, but the place'll bleed your soul dry if you ain't careful. I should know; I was born here."
<Pose Tracker> Rudy Roughnight has posed.
Dutifully, the young boy does as he's requested and soon climbs into the wagon, just offering an awkward wave to the horse. It's odd that he doesn't touch the beast now, but he keeps his distance as much to step away from the creature if he tries to be friendly. But he does nod in the idea of speaking in secrecy, seeming unaffected by the power of the burning heat.
Despite his unexplained stand-off-ness with animals, Rudy takes the hand when its offered, more out of a common courtesy than anything else, but he seems to be a rather stocky boy despite his build. Even when him pulling a most of his own weight, there is still a surprising heft to him. But Gwen has her own strength. %
There is a short silence as Gwen speaks within the wagon. "I should," he concedes softly. "Zepet said it was good to talk about stuff. But Jack and Cecilia, Claude and Rena, even Tethella They have their stuff they're dealing with. I don't want to burden them. But I think it's okay with you." It's an odd thing to say that he's willing to confide with Gwen because she's not with Cecilia's band currently, but it works for Rudy. "Besides, I feel like you may understand a little of what I'm going through. So if I talk, you need to promise me you won't tell them."
His eyes settle on Gwen as if this was the most important promise that she'd ever make. "You need to promise."
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
It is odd. Gwen remembers the way Rudy pressed into Gulliver's nuzzling the first night they met, and how, in subsequent visits, he seemed less willing. It was easy to excuse it as preference; Gulliver's method of showing his stinky horse affection is not a thing for all people at all times.
There were a lot of odd things about the blue-haired Drifter, like how his body seemed heavier than his frame suggested. His speed. His strength. Not enough to be immediately noticeable, but the incidents added up. It's just that Gwen had her own host of 'oddities' that it felt like a welcome change.
Maybe she was wrong to keep excusing it away.
"Hold on, lemme get out a rug t'put down. Got a really neat one when I got back here." Taking out a rolled up woven rug, she unfurls it with a shake of her hands onto the open parts of the wagon's floor, smoothing out the brightly colored geometric patterns with one hand. "There." She sits down on it, and gestures for Rudy to pick a spot.
Rudy's quiet nature makes the moments he does talk weigh more, so when he speaks, Gwen quiets and listens, nodding. There are people around him, each with their own problems. The need to not be a burden. And meanwhile, there is Gwen herself. "I pride myself on kinda being that kinda person." Dealing with the threads of communication. She had a talk with Kestrel, not too long ago, about that very subject.
But what use is a courier here? Gwen will simply have to choose a different role, one that she's only really tried in the past year or so.
She'll be a friend.
But what issue could it be that he'd choose to tell her, over bothering his traveling companions? Gwen closes her eyes, giving her decision the weight of inner debate.
Then, she places a heart over her chest. "Promise. Just don't feel like you gotta keep it that way just because I promised I'd keep it a secret." She grins. "Courier's honor! Won't tell a soul."
<Pose Tracker> Rudy Roughnight has posed.
"It's a nice rug."
The compliment is soft and simple, but heartfelt, much like most of what Rudy says. As requested, he takes a seat. Once the promise is made, Rudy begins to talk. It's a bit, the wording and pacing slow. It's as if he crafts each sentence with clear deliberation, an intentional nature uncommon in most, much more for so in the process of 'confiding'.
"Not sure if you knew about the Guardian Temple or why everyone was going there. Cecilia made it seem like when we got there we were supposed to prove ourselves and get power to stop the Metal Demons. Prove that we were ready for whatever they were going to give us. Not sure exactly how it was supposed to go though," Rudy points out, his brown eyes looking to the patterns of the rug, his brow furring as the memories come up of that eventful chain of struggles. It's as if looking from one set of shapes to another distract him just enough to keep going. "I know how it ended up. Everyone saw stuff, not good stuff. I guess from what I had seen it was their struggles. The burdens they carried inside. We were weighed, we were measured, we were found wanting." A soft sigh comes out. "It hurt. It hurt a lot." The gaze of Rudy looks up. "I'm sure it was hard for you too, that is if you went there as well."
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
"Thanks! I bring it out when I want things to look a little more 'homey'." Usually outside, to have something to lay on to soften the ground, or to string up for privacy. Like her earlier blankets, its uses were manifold.
It also gives something tactile to the boards they sit on, like a magical shield away from the world. "I just kinda got caught up with it," Gwen offers in the way of explanation. "Was escortin' some friends of mine to the west when we noticed somethin' off." She quiets then, letting Rudy take his time to explain, feeling the setup for his worries expand with each sentence he crafts.
"Not everyone can be Nightburn Acklund," she admits. "I guess I didn't... take it personally. There was someone with us who was..." Gwen tilts her head and purses her lips, a gloved finger tapping at the side of a crate. "I'm gonna just say she was very sick. After afterwards, she got worse, though I don't think it was because of the Guardians. The fact that we got those tablets seemed like they were havin' mercy on us more than anything."
Despair. The feeling of her voice being snuffed out, of feeling as helpless as she did that one day Aunt Frea found her collapsed, the beating of her heart a dangerously slow tempo.
But it was simply a different sort of hurt, no less painful than what others suffered in her party and in others that traveled through the temple. Maybe less so, to be able to, perhaps unwisely, frame it all in the manner that she did.
Did Rigobrite come to her out of pity?
Her inner thoughts bleed out in the bending of her lips, the way her downcast eyes look to the rug for solace, much like Rudy's own. He must have had it hard, too. Not everyone can walk out of something like that by ignorantly pushing aside questions of self-worth. "Was that what was botherin' you, Rudy?"
<Pose Tracker> Rudy Roughnight has posed.
"I'm sorry to hear about your" Rudy struggles for the right word, but in time finds it. "Traveling partner."
The talk of the friend and the rug put aside, Rudy frowns as Gwen goes back to the whole point of this wagon talk. "It's more than that. I guess I just had to confront the truth in the Temple, that I wasn't going to escape it."
Roughnight sighs as he rubs his head, eyes shifting to look at a downward angle, which bring him to look firmly at Gwen's shoes. "I traveled with Zepet, he was a good man. One of the best Diggers around. He told me that places like that, they often look for certain people. Try to make people into they need to be, a rite of passage. That when they offer you challenges, it's show you are the right person or to make you the right person. I guess we failed in the first, but I guess you all might be able to do the second."
Conviction carries into those brown eyes as they look into Gwen's caring countenance. "I know I won't be able to make the trial if I'm right, but I need to help everyone else succeed. That's why I can't tell this to the others. They are going through a lot. They don't need to worry about me. As I said, I don't want pity nor do I deserve it."
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
"They have people with them, so I'm just glad I managed to uphold my end of my promise in gettin' them here in one piece," Gwen admits.
As they touch back on the true purpose of Rudy's thoughts, the redhead's eyes lid, her blue-grey gaze crowned by pale red lashes.
To confront the truth, of something he was trying to escape. But what is that something?
No matter what it is, he's brave. Braver than he gives himself credit for, Gwen thinks.
"Maybe that was your challenge?" she offers, after a reflective pause. "To face-"
'It'. A thing that, 'if he's right', he wouldn't be able to make the second trial. "I dunno if I'm savior material either. But maybe that's the role we both can play."
Gwen reaches forward, and, gently, places a hand on Rudy's shoulder, her fingers tightening, then loosening. "They're gonna worry 'bout you no matter what. Just like you worry 'bout them. But that's what makes you you, to me, Rudy. You got every reason to push the world away, but you don't. The people at the tavern... they've lost that. If they die tomorrow, in a few weeks, this town will simply roll over them as if they weren't even there." A crease forms in her brow. "I remember, after Adlehyde, and other disasters. You were the one that gave the dead a proper burial. That part of you that drives you t'do that, well. It's something I hope you never lose. Kindness is something that doesn't occur in this world on its own."
It. The vagueness keeps bugging her. "When you say 'you won't make the trial if you're right', what d'ya mean? That you don't think you deserve it?"
<Pose Tracker> Rudy Roughnight has posed.
The response to Gwen's initial words is swift and sudden, like a knee jerk reaction. "I'm not a hero. I just care about people. Zepet told me to use my gifts to help people. That they were meant to hurt people, but I didn't have to. That I could use them to protect them."
It's odd, the boy clearly looks up to the famed Digger, but there is no use of the word father, grandfather, or anything else. Even if other people have used such terms and Rudy has never refuted any of them. The name is offered again, softly as if it were some sort of prayer for happiness.
"Zepet..."
A second passes before the boy continues on, offering what will likely be the most words out of him for a .... very long time. "When he was getting too weak to travel, he took me a place known as Surf Village. They had a Berry Cave. I tried a few times on my own to get what I needed to keep him going but eventually..." Rudy stops himself, as if finishing the sentence would be too much. Gwen's been to the Berry Cave. She went there with Rudy, though he really gave no sign that had it had such history. Just because he never lies doesn't mean he has his secrets, it would seem. But it's easy to do when you're silent. But that's not happening. In fact, Rudy talks a whole lot as shown by the fact that he goes on.
"Either way, before that happened, he promised that the mayor would let me stay. That the town would take care of me. He wanted me to be someplace where I didn't have to fight. Where I didn't have to kill and just help people. I worked hard and did everything they asked. I wanted them to love me like Zepet did." There is a hard swallow as he looks to the Hand Cannon in his hands. His focus gravitates toward a spot of blood that has dried under the harsh sun of the Badlands. "Then a kid's father got sick. He was going to die. I couldn't let it happen." A pained fire lights in his eyes, a resolve that somehow concedes with the sorrow and fuel both to increased heights.
"So I went to the Berry Cave, blasted it open, fought my way through. I got the berries needed, but when I came back, they found out I was there, the mayor and the town. They were mad; they said that I unleashed the evil that came out. That was when a monster tried to attack them, so I used my ARM to stop it. So they threw me out."
There is a pause as if the cause and reaction still shocks him, no matter that he has been down this road of contemplation before or that he understands the Nature of Man.
"They hate me because they are scared of me. But they were supposed to take care of me. They were supposed to be with me." The brown eyes water and tears trickle down at the rejection, but there is no sobbing, his calm resolve getting him through for now.
"And I guess they were right. Everywhere we went, when I tried to help, stuff like this happened. Because I'm a freak. I'm a monster. I don't know how, I don't know why, but I am."
The problem when someone wants to talk about something and another asks to hear; 'It' is given in all it's mangled form. It's clear the It is much more than Surf Village, but it is the tipping point as his conversation begins to weave threads together showing his current stream of confused consciousness.
"People hate me for what I am, save the people I let down. But if I'm a monster whose only good thing is helping people and protecting them, then why did I live when all those people in Adlehyde die? Why am I here and Zepet died?"
At this point, the tears are a stream and Rudy actually uses a hand to brace himself onto the side of the wagon, his grip enough to leave a slight impression. His breathing is ragged and to say that he's a mess is grossest of understatements. With red creeping into his eyes from the amount of tears, he pleads with Gwen out of a place is unrestrained fear. "Don't tell the others," his words broken by the hoarse throat not used to speak, by the sobs that choke out his breath after every sentence. "I don't want them knowing all this. I need to help them. They can be who the Guardians need. I know it. I just need to forget this and move on, so they can get the Guardians help and we can take out the Metal Demons."
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
Rudy's simple response brings a smile to Gwen's face. "Man, now I kinda wish Auntie really could've met Zepet." The grin weakens as she goes through the likely possibilities of such an impossible encounter. "I think they'd... be okay. For a little while. Maybe. Auntie gets tense with people she respects, y'know?"
Gwen quiets as Rudy speaks, talking for longer than she's ever heard him speak before.
And the deeper he goes, the more something sharp bites at her chest. The more her stomach churns. The more her mouth tightens. The more something in her own memory finds something that makes it personal to her.
That's it. That's the It. The fear, the stares, the feeling that you are the Other, a creature that stirs and shambles outside of the definition of human. Something to be feared and reviled, rejected, no matter how that thing wanted to be liked, to be loved, or be accepted.
Rudy's been living the nightmare Gwen had carefully constructed her teenage life around avoiding. Heck, she even *invited* him back to it, drawing him to the very cave the incident happened. Twice. There was no welcome grouping of sympathetic Drifters for him at Surf Village, each with their own secrets or experiences that made them at least willing to overlook the fact that a Drifter was able to defend themselves.
And he did it without Zepet, a man he refers to with reverence.
Rudy was right. Gwen *would* understand it, no matter how much or how little her own experience mirrored his. She knew.
How can she answer that without forcing herself to answer her own doubts and fears, about herself, and even about Rudy himself?
Gwen's weight shifts in the wagon towards Rudy, unheeding of the very strength that left a mark on her wagon. Her eyes are tearing up as well, falling over the light freckles on her cheeks, eventually streaming enough to drop audibly on the rug below.
And, with an almost reflexive, but gentle motion that reveals a certain amount of understanding, Gwen draws Rudy into a hug, keeping him there as tears continue to stream down her face. Each of her two arms, whether mechanical or human, show no difference in their hold, her body synchronized to the point that it compensates.
"_Damn it_... _damn it all_..." Dark emotions well up, the sorts of things she wanted to keep locked away until she's pushed, just right, to display her anger and fury at the world.
.... But she can't.
"If you're a monster, so'm I. So you ain't alone, anymore." Gwen still hugs Rudy, her words hitching in her throat. "Even if you're someplace else, just know that. I'm gonna be here, for a very long time. I promise you. Just promise me back you will, too, okay?" She closes her eyes. "And I promise. This's something I got no right to tell people without you being a part of it. Just don't let it poison your heart, 'kay...? Don't be scared to reach out. Not when you got friends now."
<Pose Tracker> Rudy Roughnight has posed.
While Rudy has been somewhat standoffish before with disclosure as Gwen responds with her own admission, Rudy takes her in, slowly releasing the grip on the wagon. He does cry for awhile, letting the words sink in.
Then there is a breath as the blue haired composes himself, perhaps having reflected on the words offered. "I will fight the Metal Demons until I'm dead or we've won, whichever comes first," Roughnight offers with utmost certainty. "But for you, you'll get past this, I know. Just make sure to take the advice you tell other people. Hope is what you need. I know you have it, just make sure you always let it grow. Never let it go." At that, he lets go, waiting for Gwen to release before he moves to stand up. It seems as if Rudy is preparing to go. "I know you asked for me to share, but I still feel the need to apologize. That was a lot for me to share. A lot to burden you with," he offers, his tone softening and returning back to it's normal demeanor once more.
Rudy had his moment and for now, it's all he needs to get back to his usual encouraging others self once more.
<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.
When Rudy assures Gwen that she'll get past her own troubles, Gwen chuckles quietly, her breath audibly hitching as she does so. "No, no, it's okay. It was my choice to get this ARM put on. I didn't have t'deal with the same things you did, but it was at the cost of always playin' it safe. Didn't involve myself with other people." She holds onto Rudy securely, closing her eyes. "But then... I got lonely. I could never tell if anyone'd actually accept me, if they knew. Now, I know."
Hope. It feels good to hear someone else openly declare that it's okay to have that, especially a person like Rudy. "You too, Rudy. Don't let anything overshadow hope. Even if..." She trails off, unsure of how to phrase herself. Even if his quest could lead to a point where he'd have to choose between hope and extermination? How can she tell Rudy to have mercy on them, after hearing the pain such recklessly optimistic ideas have caused Cecilia and Jack? "Even if it means letting someone live, even if you hate them for who they are. If you can afford to."
Hopefully it's vague enough for now.
Letting Rudy go, Gwen reaches over to ruffle the young Drifter's blue hair, making sure to not muss up his bandanna in the process. "You sound a lot better. It makes me feel good that I could be there for you, and that you'd trust me with that. I don't always know the answers, but just know that you're no longer alone out there."
Something sparks in the courier's eyes- a moment of inspiration. "Hey. If you find your hope growing tired again..." She reaches into a small drawer in the front of the wagon, underneath the driver's seat, taking out a small piece of turquoise, shaped into a small disk with a small depression in it. "I get these little knickknacks from clients from time to time, and they're kinda nice to have in my pocket when I'm feelin' blue. I feel it in my hands and just think about things." She offers it to Rudy. "Here. Call it a reminder, if you're feeling like you're alone, or that you've lost hope. Remember that there're people out there who care about you. Not just me, but people like Cecilia. And that we're not alone either, because you're here too."
<Pose Tracker> Rudy Roughnight has posed.
Gwen hopes her words are enough to slowly tilt Rudy toward a certain direction without knowing that he is being prepped for it. His tone darkens slightly as his words become softer, perhaps previous conversations having brought such topics up before.
"That's a talk for another time." It's clear that Rudy disagrees heavily, but Gwen's likely seen more than enough of Rudy in and after battle with the Metal Demons to understand why.
The hair is ruffled and Roughnight gives a faint smirk, the previous cloud from previous topics swiftly passing. "I did what I needed to do to keep moving forward" is all he states on his current state. Easier to tell some of the truth then just lie, after all. The hand takes the disk offered and Rudy takes it into his hand before using his teeth to remove his other glove. Soon the bare hand rubs against the smooth stone. His brown eyes flicker up at he takes in the last bit of Gwen's advice, his cheeks showing a faint blush. A bit of silence carries as he takes her in. Gone are the monologues as swiftly as they came, the young man working to choose his words as carefully as possible once more.
"You're a very special woman, Gwen Whitlock," the outcast points out. "Even if or when I'm not around, I'm sure you'll only be alone if you want it. Keep the light going." The glove is placed on his hand again as he clears his throat, removing the remainders of heartbreak from his esophagus before he turns to leave. "Later." That said, the young man turns and just begins to make his way out.