beyondtheline | Tornadoes and skeletons and nacho dogs, oh my

Tornadoes and skeletons and nacho dogs, oh my

[So this is how he gets away with it, then. Cruz, a skeleton, with a skeleton horse, lives in a skeleton of a house with a skeletal barn attached - and he remains unseen, his home apparently abandoned, all the way on the outskirts of this thing that's barely a town.

Well, you do what you gotta do, and Johnnie won't turn down a kind offer of a safe place to stay the night. He can't help but grin at Chrissy having such a good time riding that bony horse as he pulls the bike in through the barn door and parks it to the side, then hops off.]

Hey man, we owe ya for this. Here.

[See, this is yet another reason it's good to stock up on alcohol. He finds their most recent stolen bottle of tequila and pulls it out as he saunters over to their host and offers it in an outstretched hand.]

On us. Uh, if you drink, that is. You do drink, right?

[Normally that would be a dumb question to ask but the guy appears to be actual bones. But, bones that can smoke, without lungs, so he can probably drink without a mouth, right?

That earns a laugh from Cruz.]

I sure do, fella. You don't have to, though. I'm not looking for any kind of repayment, just helping out a couple folks in need.

[Johnnie shakes his head and waves that attempt off.]

Nah, it's all yours. Or if you really insist, we can all split it tomorrow, the three of us an' the rest of your crew. Can't wait to meet 'em. They all skeletons too?

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[Oh yeah, picture. Good, she remembered. He takes the camera in one hand and holds her close with the other, his arm around her waist, then smiles for the shot - though he winks at just the last second, because what's a regular smile for if instead he can be cocky about how good he has it? Here they are, on top of the world (or at least, some rocky foothills), enjoying the sunrise after a wild, wonderful night.

He chuckles quietly as he hands the camera back, then lights himself a cigarette to work on while he waits for the water to boil. He flicks embers out into the sky, watches them drift with the sunbeams.]

So, you got breakfast in that bag? I didn't see what you wound up grabbing. An' then I'll tell you the shit I said I would, too, just general stuff to start learning before we get back home.

[She flaps the picture that prints out through the air to get it started developing. It's set aside with the camera, and she works to start unloading the things inside the paper sack.]

I didn't find much. But there's a jar of cherries, some little powdered doughnuts, and some fresh blueberries! They might be a little warm and mushy now, but I bet they're still good.

[Everything is quickly set out, including a couple of small things she hadn't mentioned to him. It's not a huge breakfast spread, and she's definitely missing bacon. But that can be had once they're back in LA. She promptly reaches for one of the little doughnuts and bites off half. Powdered sugar gets all over her lips and chin, and she laughs as she enjoys the taste.]

It's probably not enough to tide us over all day. But we can stop after we've been on the road a couple of hours later on.

Well you know me, I'm not picky. It all sounds real good.

[She gets a grin and a kiss on the cheek, and then he's reaching his fingers right into that jar of cherries, which are more than sweet enough to overpower the taste of cigarette smoke. With those swallowed, he sucks cherry syrup off his fingers and goes for a doughnut.]

Let's see. Well, some a' this is better waited on until I got a map to show you stuff. But basically, while we have most of east LA, or at least the parts that matter, those guys we ran into in El Paso are one of the holdouts. They're to the north, an' then Kennel Club is north of that. Tumbleweeds base themselves out east but kinda like us with our bikes, they're mostly in shitty pickups, not just on foot, so like us, they cover more turf than the others. But, see, a lotta these guys, it's like, "you stay in your sandbox, I'll stay in mine". Right? For some of 'em, turf isn't a tool, it's all they got an' so they put every fuckin' ounce of energy into holding it 'cause they ain't shit otherwise.

[Clearly he's unimpressed by some of their neighbors. But he gets it, they can guard their neighborhoods and keep the peace there all they want so long as they don't start making trouble outside their borders. Eventually they'll all evaporate anyway, like little water droplets on a burning log.]

[She picks up on the impression that he doesn't think much of all the competition, but she can't say that she blames him. Now that she gets a little more of what the whole turf thing is about. She gets the impression it's vital to having power in the big cities, and extra important to whatever the Enders have going for them in LA.

There's really a lot lacking when they don't have a map, but they'll get one of those soon enough and she can start visually putting things together. For now, it's okay for her to nod in understanding and think over what he's telling her.]

Who names their gang Kennel Club? Do they go to dog shows or something?

[She laughs a little, almost in disbelief. The World Enders is such a cool name! And the Tumbleweeds isn't cool, but at least they're not the Kennel Club. Woof.

She woofs out loud, under her breath, as she reaches to grab a cherry from the jar. Her fingers are licked clean right after popping it into her mouth, and she waits to hear all about his canine oriented neighbor gang.]

[He chuckles at her reaction, at her already picking up that it's more fun to make fun of the local idiot kids who think they're hot shit than to take them too seriously, and waves a hand.]

Nah but they got dogs. Lots of 'em. Rottweiliers an' pit bulls or whatever. I dunno, it's kinda fucked up. They win a lot of their cash gambling on those dogs though so I guess it works for them.

[He shrugs and blows out a plume of smoke, then gets up to have a look at the water. It's hot, bubbling, not boiling exactly, but close enough. He tucks his hand into his sleeve to grab the thermos given it's probably too hot to touch otherwise, and sits back down with it so he can dump some of that powdered coffee and give it a shake.]

So those are most of our immediate neighbors, but since we run cargo outta Long Beach an' also since we have a couple dealers parked downtown most nights, we always gotta keep our eyes open. That's the real thing to know. If you're on the edge of our zone, or if you're in a contested spot we don't fully control, you gotta be there with people, always gotta have someone who has your back. You know, people get sloppy an' we lose 'em. An' that sucks, babe. That hurts.

[And not just that it hurts the crew, their operations, but it hurts him and everyone else individually, losing friends to deals gone bad or mistakes turned lethal. He knows it, and he's just put everyone else through it himself with his own stupid mistake. Should've been more careful, shouldn't have poked his nose into something on his own. He didn't know what exactly he'd gotten himself into, though. It's sure as hell not his fault, he's the victim, not the fucking murderous thugs that came for him.]

[That last part makes her go quiet as she thinks over how easily she could hurt him by unintentionally being in the wrong place at the wrong time. She's going to have to be really mindful to keep her eyes open and be more aware of what's going on around her.]

So when I go out, at least at first, should I always make sure to have someone with me?

[It's different when no one knows who she is, but she's pretty sure it'll be a quick thing for her to be known as Johnnie's girl. And whenever she joins the gang herself, that ups the risk a little more. The most important thing to her is being safe, and making sure she never does anything too stupid.]

Well... It's like I said at one point. You go around town in the day, just lookin' like you, you'll probably be all right. For a while, anyway, until people recognize you. But say you're goin' all the way out to Santa Monica, nobody out there's gonna know or care who you are. Just don't go somewhere risky on your own. It's a huge fuckin' city, almost a state in itself, it's not like you're gonna get recognized everywhere you go by everyone.

[He shrugs. That was, of course, part of his problem - he didn't realize how much fucking risk he was in, nosing around that arcade, but he should've. Hindsight and all.

The coffee's still hot, so even though he wants it, he opts for another mini-doughnut instead, and gulps it right down. Damn things are way too easy to eat.]

Most gangs aren't lookin' to fuck up random people anyway, so if you don't look like you're on business with us an' if you don't have some kinda beef with someone, it's probably all right. Most of 'em are just out to look after themselves an' their own people. It's about protection from the cops, from the people who take advantage of everyone else.

[Her eyes glance over to the thermos, and she reaches over to touch at it to feel how hot it is. It's definitely still not able to be drank just yet, at least not without burning their mouths. So she taps at the top and nods. All that sounds simple enough. And how vain is it to assume people are going to recognize or remember her, like she's important?

Gosh, she can be ridiculous sometimes.]

I don't really think I'm the beef having kind of girl. Except for Zazo. I definitely want to kill him. I mean, I have a good track record now. One major enemy down, only one more to go!

[Take that, Jason. She's grinning proudly as she gives his arm a light tap as a pretend punch. Yeah, she's tough. Tough and in need of another little doughnut.]

[That gets him grinning as he taps ash off the end of his smoke, then decides there's not enough of it left to bother with so he flicks it aside and reaches for some of those blueberries instead. Mushy, but delicious, and he follows that up with a kiss to her cheek, right under an eye, so he can leave a purple lip mark that gets him laughing more.]

Yeah, there you go, babe. That asshole fucked with the wrong people, man, he doesn't know how bad he fucked up. He's about to, though. I feel like he thinks he's mafia, you know? Untouchable, gets away with anything 'cause he's fuckin' rich an' mysterious. But, he'll see what's comin' to him.

[Nothing to lift his spirits like trash-talking that piece of shit. Nothing, that is, until he gets to see that asshole bleeding out on the floor while everything around him burns. Ah, the image alone makes him give a pleased little sigh.]

Hey, also, do you have questions? There's gotta be shit you don't know that I don't realize you don't know, right?

[She can feel the blueberry lip mark on her skin and touches at it, but doesn't wipe it away just yet. He did something cute and it deserves to stay out in the open for a little while. She retaliates as she's thinking over a question, and eats some blueberries of her own. He gets a kiss to his cheek and the tip of his nose, and she laughs before leaning over to rest her head on his shoulder.]

There's a lot that I don't know that I don't know. If that makes any sense?

[But she's thinking it over, and her hand is rubbing at his thigh in an idle motion as she does.]

I guess maybe I'm curious about what there is to do there every day? Will I need to work?

[She thinks they've probably chatted about this a little. But between everything they've seen and done, any details have gone to the back of her mind.]

[He leans his head against hers affectionately, soaking up the attention like a sponge. They can both look dumb with their blueberry kisses, sure, especially if she keeps stroking his leg like that.]

You don't need to do anything, you do what you want. But, yeah, if you join the crew, it's best if you contribute somehow, just 'cause it all goes back to everyone anyway. You keep a cut, you pay a cut, the percentage depends on what you're up to. But it's how we keep everyone fed an' sheltered if they don't have that, an' how we keep bikes fueled an' throw parties an' fund operations. Nobody's there to get rich, that goes against our oaths, so you don't have to worry about it being some kinda scheme where the money all goes to the top.

[That's a hilarious mental image, though. His brothers, they're just human, of course they'd love the opportunity to live like kings. But they're not that kind of person who'd profit off everyone else's work, and obviously neither is the Ender, who taught them all how little wealth and power really even matter.

He chuckles, picturing Alex driving some fucking million dollar race car, then tentatively sips at the coffee. It doesn't taste great, but it's caffeine and it doesn't burn him, so he has another, larger drink, then offers that to Chrissy.]

Since you're not eighteen an' I guess since you don't legally exist anyway, you can kinda do whatever you're up for. We always need couriers, who can run stuff back an' forth between dealers an' the stashes, an' all that takes is knowing the city, which you'll learn. But it seems to me, you're pretty damn good at theft, an' you enjoy it, right? Nothin' wrong with hitting places for cash, or stuff to resell. I was thinkin', if we could get one of us hired at a pawn shop, that'd be an easy way to flip jewelry.

You want me to work at a pawn shop?

[She's laughing as she says it, which means it's not off limits. She'll entertain the idea, but definitely likes the idea of just stealing things more. Because she is pretty good at it now, and likes that she excels at it.

The coffee is taken from him and she takes a sip. It's definitely not the best tasting, but she likes that it's hot and a little savory in comparison to the sweet breakfast they're eating.]

I think I'd like to learn how to do the courier thing. And I can make sure everyone gets fed!

[Yeah, that sounds pretty nice to her. She's left smiling as she passes the coffee back to him and goes back to resting her head on his shoulder.]

What about money for us? Is it okay if we save some of our own to go on trips or buy bigger things we might need? Like if I wanted to try and get my own car or motorcycle.

Oh, no, you'd just stock it with the good shit.

[He grins and pats her leg. Someone else can work the counter. She's the one who slips the guy the goods, that's all. But, hell, if she wants to run merchandise from place to place then he won't complain one bit, and if she likes it she can keep it up, and if she doesn't, there are always other opportunities.

He gulps down another mouthful of coffee, and raises a hand to tangle fingers in her hair.]

Yeah, of course. Like I said, you give part of it but you keep the rest. An' what you give up goes back to all of us in a pool, anyway. But, I bought my bike, I bought my guitar. It's okay to have the things that make life worth living, otherwise what's the point?

[He'll think of a way to rephrase that, eventually. The things that make being part of the world matter? The stuff that - no, fuck it, even if his heart stopped ticking and his existence is tethered to some unknowable horror of an entity, he's alive in the ways that count to him. It still works as a metaphor.]

But, if you see a car you like out there on the road an' it costs too much, you just ask. I'll make it happen. That's shit we're real good at.

[Her hand reaches up to cover his, and presses his touch more firmly against her head. She nuzzles against his hand and smiles, so proud that he's hers. She knows that if there's anything she really wants, he'll find a way to get it for her. He always takes care of her, always makes sure she's happy.

Gratitude is on her mind as she turns her head to kiss the inside of his wrist.]

I'll let you know when I find the perfect car. And then we can paint it pink.

[As pink as the sunrise, maybe. Or as pink as bubblegum, that would be good too.]

Do you remember when we talked about racing cars? Can we do that still?

[Pink with strawberries on the backs of the mirrors, even. He grins and holds her close as he sips at the coffee, passing it back and forth any time she wants some for herself.]

Yeah, you bet. Street racing's a hell of a good time. Good way for you to work on your driving skills, too, you know? Gotta make all those fast decisions.

[He stretches out his legs beside hers like they're in the front seats of a car, and one-hands an invisible steering wheel as he pulls it hard to one side, then the other, making engine noises until he can't help but laugh at himself and let his hand flop back into his lap.]

When we come in on the 10? That's a good track, an' real easy to follow. Freeway racing's real fun. We'll just do that out farther east from downtown until you're good, so you're not tryin' to race LAPD also. Man, those bastards got all these helicopters too, so you really can't out-drive 'em if they've got one of their tin cans in the air. It's some real bullshit.

Why are they always trying to control everything people do? It's not like racing is hurting anyone. People are just having fun.

[Ugh, the police are such idiots. They sound like a real pain in the ass, controlling everyone else. Well, she rebelled against her mother and broke free. She can defy the LAPD too.

Now it's her turn to pretend to drive a car, complete with police siren sounds. Clearly, she's pretending to race and outrun an entire army of cops. Her reward for winning the imaginary race is grabbing the thermos from him for one last long drink.]

Will I still be able to see you every night? Or will you be busy a lot of the time?

[Okay, even he knows street racing definitely can hurt someone, but he's not going to correct her. It is fun, so it's worth the risk. Hell, the risk is what makes it fun! Who goes through life only doing shit that has zero risk to it? Doesn't sound like any kind of life to him.

He laughs along with her police race for sure, and tackles her with a hug when she apparently wins - though, after she has that victory drink so she doesn't choke on it.]

I'll be around, babe, you ain't gettin' rid of me that easy.

[He snickers and decorates her temple with a powdered sugar kiss.]

It'll be different though, I've got shit I gotta take care of, I've got the band, you know. But there's a lotta time where I can just hang out or we can go on a ride around town, or whatever. An' there'll be jobs where I want you with me, 'cause we work together so damn well, it'd be a waste not to use that to our advantage. I wind up downtown a lot since we need eyes out there, you'd be great to have right at my side.

[Now the the fear of him being busy all the time is gone, she's able to have one last doughnut. She's definitely going to be wired after all this sugar, but it's okay. They'll be in California before too long, and then she'll need to be energetic to keep up with everyone and everything once they're home.]

I'd really like to go with you sometimes. Whenever I won't get in the way.

[And she doesn't mean that in a self-depreciating kind of way. But she realizes that it's going to be different being stationary and not being alone together all day, every day for days on end.]

If I wanted to go to school, would you mind if I did that?

Just gotta join us, then you can come.

[He shrugs, matter of fact. But more and more it does sound like she intends to join, and that's a relief to him. She's obviously capable enough to handle herself, even though he worries about her anyway, just because she's a girl and young and naive to all of this. But she'll pick it up fast, he's sure of it.]

Of course I wouldn't mind. School's great, learning stuff's always good. An' we recruit from schools too, you could be part of that. Hell, we got kids sellin' in schools, but I dunno if that's your thing. Pot, okay, don't think I'm sayin' we go an' sell acid to thirteen year olds, though it might do 'em some good now an' then.

[Ah, to be that young and especially enthusiastic, when every drug was new and worth trying once, twice, ten times. He's not going to get nostalgic about first-ever weird trips or anything, but that was sure a time in his life.]

[Chrissy leans back and eyes him with both eyebrows arched. Yeah, she's now totally thinking they sell acid and all kinds of things to thirteen year olds.]

I mean, getting high over and over again has done me a lot of good. But I'm not selling to thirteen year olds. I was thinking about maybe trying community college or something. I'd sell to adults.

[He's just earned a playful tweak of his nose.]

I don't want to go back to high school and be a cheerleader again or anything. I was so close to graduating, it feels like it's time to grow up.

[He grins as he tries to pull his head away, but to no avail, and bats at her hand.]

Aw, hey! I just meant, before you got the wrong idea I'd explain. Didn't think you were gonna go hang out with kids that age, c'mon. You sell to adults all you want, babe, you'll be everyone's favorite new friend at school.

[All right, one last doughnut, then he dusts off his hands.]

Mm. Oh, one more thing, before I forget. Words you hear now an' then that you don't go repeating unless you want your teeth punched out. Don't be all cutesy like Miss Toni an' go callin' people cholito or cholitito, okay? In fact, don't even be not-cutesy about it, if someone ain't already your best friend, don't say cholo or chola, it'd be weird comin' from a white girl. You got that?

[Just a friendly heads up, mostly since that's one of those words that can be completely fine or super offensive and he doesn't know how to tell her when it is and when it isn't, so... Probably best to just not, he figures.]

[She's getting the idea there's probably a lot of things that she shouldn't do or say as a white girl, and appreciates the warning. Him asking her if she gets it makes her sit up a little straighter though, and she nods as she stands up to start picking up their breakfast.]

I won't say it. I promise.

[As a white girl, it's probably going to be pretty difficult to make best friends. The last thing she wants to do is make it harder on herself by saying things that are offensive.]

What else shouldn't I say? Maybe I should just only try talking in Spanish to you, when we're alone.

Oh, it's just a respect thing, you know? Use your Spanish, I ain't sayin' don't, but watch out for the slang until you know how to use it.

[Especially for words like that one in particular, which has a whole mess of meanings he's not about to go in depth into, and not just the meaning he knew Miss Toni intended earlier in the night which was just meant to tease and not to actually piss him off. She can get away with it in ways that someone who looks like Chrissy absolutely can't.]

Or if you hear someone joke about themselves an' say they're pocho, don't repeat that one either.

[He should really get around to helping her learn proper Spanish sometime, rather than only telling her about swear words and slurs and sex stuff, but, whatever.]

Actually, one you're more likely to fuck up that you should know, is if you're talkin' about someone's mama, you say mamá, you don't use madre, 'cause that one gets turned into a real serious insult more often. You say something about "tu madre" an' you'll get a chair swung at your head. It's like callin' someone "you motherfucker", the "fucker" part's just implied.

[Her eyes go comically wide, and she slowly nods her head. The first sign that what he's told her has made her anxiety go up to a ten is her teeth pressing against her lower lip, followed by her hands fidgeting together in between picking things up. The pacing comes next, hands knit together nervously, and she's grateful that she has the distraction of getting things back to the bike to focus on.]

But you'll help me learn, right? Really learn?

[She wants people to like her so badly that it's ridiculous. She wants friends, real ones. And she doesn't want to mess that up by saying the wrong thing. Life with the World Enders comes with a lot of rules, despite the fact they seem pretty chaotic and hedonistic. They've just got a different code that they live by, one she isn't used to.

He keeps telling her that he'll get her in with the gang, but she thinks there might be very real odds that she just won't fit in no matter how hard she tries.]

Aw, babe. Yeah, of course. Hey, we could do Spanish-only nights sometime, like, you an' me, no English at all, once you're at the point where you know a bit. That might make it go faster.

[She gets up and so he does too. Camping sounds nice but they need to get the bike farther from the highway before that happens. By now the sun is up and starting to feel warm, so it's time to go cuddle somewhere shady and quiet.]

Also, you don't have to know Spanish at all, you know that, right? I mean, just about everyone speaks English most of the time, an' it's a whole mix, too, people from all kindsa backgrounds. You won't even be the only white girl.

[He's told her this before, but with how she's so nervous, it's hard to know how much that sank in. He catches her in his arms once they're back at the bike with their things, and he kisses her, then smudges powdered sugar off her chin.]

It's just California, baby girl. You ain't goin' to Mexico or some shit. It's not that big a deal.

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