A Peaceful Existence


brian_icon.gif koshka_icon.gif

Scene Title A Peaceful Existence
Synopsis That's what it's been, for the most part. But real world worries fester inside Eltingville.
Date April 6, 2011

Eltingville Blocks : Brian's Residence

It's been a mostly peaceful existence.

They've become quite the family. When you have no one else to be with, you become intimately knowledgable of those around you. And because of this, the young man who once thought he was distant with the girl who stayed in he and his girlfriend's chinatown apartment now knows Koshka a little too well. The two have cohabitated well, a lot of games have been plaid, explorations taken on the surrounding blocks. A few acquantainces made around the neighborhood. A few nights ago they attempted something like a block party. An attempt at normalcy in a place where normalcy has been long gone for a long while. They've become close with Ernesto who is basically the father of their relationship. Working and providing what little sustenance he can for Brian and Koshka. Brian scavenges, trades, and explores while Koshka is at school but other than that there's not much he can do.

A dish is dropped gently into the sink as Brian finally finishes the dishes for their dinner. Ernesto had said he wasn't feeling well, and had gone home early. The night wears on towards the late hours. The four fingered man making his way from the sink to the kitchen window. Peering out he lets out a quiet breath. "Ernesto's lights are out already." Brian comments dully. Koshka may hear him, she may not. But eventually, Brian is heading away from the kitchen back towards the rear of the house. "I'm going to be in the back, Kosh."

His jacket of holes is tossed on over his arms as he makes his way to the back door. Kicking it open with one be-slippered foot. Slipping out the door into the cold air a slow breath is taken. Spring time. A small cooler rests a few feet away from the door, the top flipped open and reached into. Ice falls from around an aluminum can as Brian brings up a can of beer. Contraband. A light kshh sound is made as Brian cracks it open. Bringing it up to his mouth, he then reaches into his jacket. Pulling out a pack of cigarettes.

Normally Koshka would have helped with the dishes, but dinner interrupted homework that she insisted on figuring out herself. And following dinner she sullenly returned to the work. Math had never been a favored subject, even before the world got crazy and the need for her to run away had shown itself. It's still not her favorite, if anyone were keeping track, and the paper that should be holding answers to the problems is more filled with doodles and lame attempts at art than actual mathematical equations. It would seem the assignment is still stumping her.

So when Brian speaks up, it's quite the welcome interruption.

Koshka, pencil hovering over her latest sketch of a stubby-tailed cat in the margin of her paper, looks toward Brian. Her eyes follow, head turning to watch as he moves through the house. Brows knit together slightly when the door is banged through, and the girl lowers her pencil into the crack of the book while rising to follow. She makes do with a hoodie, a ratty thing probably found at Harbor Court, but warm enough for the cooler weather, pulling it over her head as she steps quietly through the doorway.

The girl doesn't speak right away, though she does watch Brian for a long moment. Hands sinking into her pockets, she sidles another couple of steps from the house and looks toward the sky. "You okay," Koshka asks quietly, giving a small shrug of her shoulders.

Once Koshka eventually joins him, Brian has slid his way down the wall. Seated on the ground, Brian fumbles the pack of cigarettes in his hand as he looks up at Samara. At first his eyes are wide in surprise, then mild shock gives way to resignation. A light shrug follows Koshka's exit of the house. A smile curls up lightly, a sort of sad thing in offering. He glances back down at the pack, being fumbled in his hand. "Don't tell Sam." Is grated out, four fingers struggling to manage the lid of the pack. Popping the flap open, his good hand goes to finger a single clove out of the pack. There's only three left. Either Brian found it missing a bunch, or he's been smoking a lot. A lighter is brought out of his pocket, the pack dropped to his lap. A small flame is produced as the clove is left to droop in his lips. The embers igniting immediately. The lighter then dropped to his side as well. A small blue crackle of electricity dances on his fingers. "Just a little in my head today." He grates out. "You're learning science and shit, right? How can I light stuff on fire with electricity. If I had gasoline or something.. I don't know. I want to make my own lighter. Ask your teacher. I wish I had god damn firehands."

With a sigh, Koshka sinks toward the ground, still facing Brian. She wraps her arms around her knees, looking aside politely while he works to light the smoke. "I won't tell Sam," she promises with a nod. "But she'll probably eventually find out anyway." She always does, it seems. Glancing back toward him, she manages a small smile, worried but hopeful.

Looking toward the ground, Koshka plucks at the browned grass in front of her feet. "I'll ask," is also said in promising tones. Though she usually tries to avoid notice by her teachers. And they might wonder why she wanted to know how to make a lighter. "But electricity… I think it has something to do with the heat, and the dryness of things. Like… fires in summer started by lightning strikes." She pauses, and then glances toward Brian, thinking he didn't really want a science lesson. "What's wrong," she asks.

"Good." He lets out dully. The clove hangs limply out of his lips. Sucking in on the clove, smoke billows out of his nostrils like some sort of sleepy or sad dragon. His head clunks into the wall behind him. The cigarette is pulled away from his mouth, the sweet vanilla scent flowing away from his smoke. Beer is brought to his lips, tipped back he takes a tight pull from the liquid. Swallowing down the beer, he frowns lightly at Koshka. "Yeah. She probably will. But right now, I don't really care." Brian groans, before peering down at the ground. His features eventually twist into a quirky smile, a small laugh being drawn from his lips. "You know that's how we met? She found me smoking and made me stop?" A little laugh is pulled out. His head shaking slowly. "She would probably be disappointed." It doesn't stop him from letting another plume of smoke descend from his nostrils.

At the question, gray blue eyes skim over Koshka's form. Giving her a very flat and level look. A look that almost asks, 'what are you talking about'. "I'm stuck in a ghetto seperated from my fiancee and my unborn child. And all my adopted kids." A little shrug is given. "And my fiancee is with a person who has my body and the hormones of a sixteen year old." The hormones, not the mind. There is no mind. Remembering her age he gives a slight wince and an apologetic smile. "But other than that. Not a lot wrong." He grins softly. "Want a sip?" He asks quietly, holding the beer over to her. "It's gross. You ever had beer before?"

"It smells like pee," Koshka responds with a glance toward the beer can. If pee were known to have a wheaty, sour smell. "I'll pass, thanks." Rocking back slightly, she sits properly on the ground, legs folded in front of her. A sad look crosses her features, mixed with guilt that isn't so easily replaced by the hope of one day getting out of this place. "I— I'm sorry, Brian. I tried to get a message out when you disappeared and no one replied to me. I don't even know if Sam heard anything."

Pushing her hands into her jeans pockets, Koshka produces a phone. Her phone, to be exact, powered down for the moment. "They let me have this back… since I was going to school. And…" Hand extending toward him, the phone is offered. "I know you borrow Ernesto's but this one you don't have to give back."

"It's alright. She knows where we are. She knows we're safe. We know she's safe. Everything's fine. Everything will be fine." The words are pronounced but somewhat empty. There's no true conviction behind them. "A guy I know might be able to get her in for a little. So that would be nice." Brian lets out stonily. A moment passes before he lets out a loud laugh. "What am I saying? That would be amazing." He stares down at a specific piece of ground until he starts to shake his head. "Don't blame yourself for this, K." He offers a weak smile, taking another pull from his clove. Brow arching as she pulls out her phone.

He reaches out hesitantly to take it. Fingers closing around it, sans the middle one. Pulling it in he peers at it closely. "It will be our house phone." He murmurs. "We'll keep it in the house. So it doesn't get lifted from you and.. I don't know. Maybe it'll just feel normal. I think I might be able to charge it. I'm just afraid of frying it." He peers at the bottom of the phone where the charger slot is. " If I'm careful…"

A tentative smile is offered as the phone is taken, tending still toward the worried end. Koshka nods and draws her arms around her knees again. "I bet we could find a way to charge it. Maybe my science teacher would know." Again, questions she'll have to phrase carefully to stay under the proverbial radar. "We'll… find a way to make it normal here. Somehow."

Lowering her chin to her arms, Koshka looks away from the house. "I was just trying to do what I thought would help. I didn't know what to do and… Registration seemed the best option." Her shoulders rise then fall and eyes flick back to Brian. "If Sam does get to visit, plan your private time for when I'm at school, okay? I don't want to hear you guys be all mooshy."

A fresh wave of smoke drifts up over his face slowly. "Stop worrying." It's said lowly, almost inaudibly. "What done is done Koshka. We'll get out of this. Things are always turned around." Brian takes another slow sip of the beer, the clove being held carefully in his other hand. Swallowing down the beer is sandwiched in between his legs, head sliding along the side of the wall. His eyes flick lazily over to her, a slow smile pulling up his lips. "I just. I'm having some weird thoughts today. I'll be better in the morning, I promise."

Sucking in a deep breath from the clove, he allows the cancer stick to hang out of his lips. Smoke slides out of his nostrils, " We will get mooshy whenever she arrives. You may want to take a walk or something should you be home when she gets here. Because no force in the universe could stop the inevitable." He gives her a little grin.

Brows furrowing, lips drawing back a little, Koshka could have been told she's eating liver and chicken gizzards for supper rather than the implications of mooshy time between her two guardians. "Yeah. That's gross." She glances toward Brian and just shakes her head. "Definitely going for a walk, or… Whatever. I'm so not being here."

Tilting her head back a little, Koshka gazes toward the sky. "What kinds of weird thoughts," she asks carefully. "I mean… If you want to talk. I… don't know how I could help but…" With a shrug, she looks over again, watching Brian. "Or if not? Then… We could practice your setting things on fire. Start with my math book."

"Just I don't know. We're fighting but… I don't know. Just one of those days where the fight seems kind of pointless, you know what I mean? The government isn't going to stop stomping on us. We got Rickham elected. Rickham. And we were still fucked. What kind of angel do we have to find and get in the government to stop this shit?" He takes a long drag from his clove. "I just don't think anyone like that exists. The only people who could lead this country in the right way… They're wanted criminals." Brian lets the clove droop down in his lips.

"Our side is never going to win. We're just going to increase the antagonism. Make more laws against us, drive the government to more extreme measures. We're not going to win this way." His head sags some, brows knitting together. "The only way we could win… I don't know. It would have to be something extreme. A price I don't think any Ferry would be willing to pay."

Though Koshka listens, intent and following where Brian's words lead, the idea is a frightening one. Elbows move to rest against her knees, hands cradle her chin, though her eyes slip to stare at the ground. "I don't know either. But… it's only going to get worse unless we do something. Or… someone does something. More than just one elected official has to be on our side."

Pressing her lips together, Koshka looks up at Brian after a moment. "I… don't know where any Fairies are, or what they'd even think." Her own faith in the idea is a little darkened, however she'd like to hope. "We could win though. Somehow." And something big, however the girl leaves that part out. Too frightening to think about just yet. "We could win, without flying fantasy creatures."

"Should we win, though? Like really? What would even happen if we did? Would we even want that? And would what we have to do, to win, even be worth the victory? Would it still be us?" Brian puffs smoke out of his nose harshly. Holding the clove near his leg, eyes closing. "Just think about it. To win. To really win. Something catastrophic would have to occur. A whole echelon of people would need to be taken out and then.. We're left in a world where still the majority of humanity hates us. Maybe they're right with this separation stuff. We should go find a corner of the world and just make our own secluded country. Separated from the rest of humanity. It sounds crazy but…"

Another long pull is taken from his beer. "I don't know, this is all just.. deppression bullshit. But.. It's just.. Scary." Another puff is taken. "Sorry Kosh. We should do s omething more fun."

"Right, we win." Koshka frowns and shakes her head, then motions to the yard and the ghetto that stretches out beyond, making up Eltingville Blocks. "We win, and shit like this doesn't happen anymore. And we're still a minority, but so what? They've learned to live with every other minority, why not us? —Not that I want to play that card at all."

With a sigh, Koshka shakes her head. "I don't have answers. If I did..? Then… I don't know." Shoulders rise and fall and she musters a bit of a grin. "We should do something more fun. Like… how far can you shoot your lightening bolts?"

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License