Participants:
| Scene Title | When the Sun is Shining… |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | A rare break in the rains prompts Silas to take advantage of the opportunity to cash in his remaining chips; along the way, he crosses paths with an old acquaintance. |
| Date | June 24, 2021 |
It's roughly around lunchtime. The sun rests just past its apex, still casting short shadows and lending it's warmth to the summery air. And, because it's somewhere near midday, much of the normal hustle and activity around the Pelago docks is quieted. It's still busy, there are always boats and people and cargo moving around. But the hustle itself is less than its peak; which, in turn, makes it easier to see who's working and who isn't.
Jac Morrison, better known as Squeaks, is most obviously not working. It's hard to say, just from looking at her, exactly what she's doing, but it seems to have nothing to do with the supplies stacked up on the dock nearby or with the Cerberus creaking against its moorings.
The teenager is actually laying on the wood pilings, on her belly with bared feet in the air, toes splayed and legs waving as if for balance. Her head and shoulders hang over the landing to peer down into the water, very nearly in the water at times, with hands grasping the underside of the planks as the other form of leverage to keep from toppling in.
Sunshine is a commodity that seems to be in short supply these days; those few spans where the Stormfront relents in its ongoing tantrum are all the more precious for their scarcity. Some are taking the time to enjoy this particular spell.
Silas Mackenzie is not one of them. When the sun is shining, make hay is a saying that he's heard often enough for it live rent-free in the back of his brain, and he is perfectly capable of enjoying sunshine while he's working — the work in question being his ongoing project of cashing in on favors owed and rainy day credits wherever he can without getting skinned in the process. Good weather puts people in good spirits, might make it easier to squeeze a smidge more out of those favors owed… which is good, because one hell of a sunshower is coming. Soon.
The sight of someone near the Cerberus III's dock seemingly a handsbreadth from tumbling into the sea does give him pause, though. He hesitates for a moment, then speaks up. "You alright there? Need a hand?"
"Sound can go through water," Squeaks responds, without looking up. Her tone is almost offhand, like she's wondering how to make it be possible.
The teen hangs over the edge of the planks for a few seconds longer, then scoots herself back just far enough to not risk tipping herself into the water as she looks up at Silas. "I can get to the water, but not in it." She further explains, still not including context for what she even means.
Folding her legs under her, Squeaks stands and scrubs her palms against her pants legs. "I'm okay, it's just…" Her eyes tip over to the smallest waves lapping against the side of the ship. "Trying to figure something out." Her eyes lift again, returning to Silas. "Are you looking for Captain Ben?"
"Yeaah…" Silas agrees with that assessment on the nature of sound, but he's wondering where she might be going with this and whether he missed a line of this conversation somewhere.
When she finally emerges back onto the topside of the dock, though… it's then that Silas recognizes her. "Not at the moment, no; just…" he trails off, shaking his head. "You. You're… Jac, wasn't it?" Silas asks. "It's been awhile. Glad to see you made it."
“Yes.” Her tone is almost puzzled and lamenting, something still stuck on the problem of sound and water. But it's also an answer to Silas’ question because she hasn't turned away and adds, “Or Squeaks. I stayed with Captain Ben. I knew we could stop the Sentinel.” Even though it's a small boast, there's a touch of humble airs when she says it.
“You went to the storms, with the travelers I came here with.” The teen might be making an observation, but she's also asking. What happened to those people?
"Bold claim, but judgin' by that boat Ryans is driving, I'd say history proved it right," Silas admits, grinning briefly. His grin fades at that second observation. "Yeah. To the other side," he says quietly.
"Some made it. Some…" he hesitates, then shakes his head. Some didn't; that's the way it goes sometimes, though.
“Like here.” Some made it, and some didn't. Squeaks understands pretty well what isn't said.
Rocking slightly, the girl uses the motion to get to her feet. She doesn't wander far, just to the crates that are about a dozen steps away. The whole time she’s watching Silas, strongly side eyeing even when she perches on the edge of a box so she can tug on a pair of shoes.
“How'd you get back?” She asks as the first shoe is fitted onto a foot. She remembers the crossing she made, the mad rush, panic, endless falling until it did end… Her fingers fuss with the laces, unsuccessful in tying.
Silas raises an eyebrow at the side-eye he's getting… though her question sees his expression flatten a bit. It takes a moment before he answers. "Bein' honest? Got no damn idea." He's silent for a moment longer as he considers. "I was out to sea. Crazy thing to do, maybe — finally get to dry land and I go out on a boat ride, but that's what I did. There was… an explosion. I thought I'd been thrown from the boat." He shrugs sourly. "Which I guess I had, but further than I thought. It wasn't like the Ark, though. No…" he trails off, shaking his head. No special effects would be an accurate way of putting it, but also irreverent to a degree that leaves a bad taste in Silas's mouth.
"There was an explosion, and next thing I knew I was in the water. Else was waiting for me; if she hadn't been, I'd have drowned."
“Else knows things.” Squeaks speaks like it's fact, but she's also got experience. It was Else who guided the ship that collected her and the others who had leapt from a building in the Wasteland and fallen into the flooded world.
For a minute, she focuses on her laces, wondering about Silas’ story. Then, her efforts to tie her shoe stall and she squints up at Silas.
“You said dry land?”
"Yep," Silas nods. "The 'New York Safe Zone'." He shakes his head. "Wasn't paradise, but… things seemed to be on the way up. The city was bustling; the land wasn't, you know, radioactive like a lot of places around here are. Lotta people got chances to start new lives…" he trails off, then looks to Jac. "You came here with Lis too, right? What was the place you came from like?" he asks, suddenly curious.
“Bad.”
The answer is so concise, almost quiet, definitely haunted. As it’s given, Squeaks gets right back to the business of tying her shoes. She doesn’t want to talk about where she came from. It takes her a long couple of seconds to get her shoes tied, fingers making knots with only vague frustration.
Once finished, she squints a look up at Silas again. “You said dry land?”
"Dry land, yes," Silas affirms again; he can't help but grin with faint amusement. "Granted, things were kinda rough outside New York, so I didn't travel that far, but. There was a guy from Montana runnin' for President, which is about as far from the ocean as you can get."
"Why, was the place you came from this water-logged too?" he asks, frowning thoughtfully.
The answer gets an even more squinty look. Squeaks sits up straighter, head slowly tilting to one side. “Montana,” she says slowly, feeling the word out. It's not very hard to remember where that is, she's seen it on maps. And this flooded world isn't very different from her Wasteland one.
“How far did you go?” The question is definitely used as deflection, but the girl is also genuinely interested in what's beyond where all the ships sail.
At this, Silas grimaces. "Not far. You'd think I'da packed up and headed for Nebraska or somethin', but no. Had a business to try to set up… not that that ended up coming to anything." He seems to deflate a bit as his mind inevitably wanders to the promising foundation he'd laid here, in his home… only for it to all go south.
Which, in turn, brings him back to what he's doing today. "Well. I've got some work to do. Got another trip to plan for. Heading back to Alaska soon."
“Wait.”
Impulse carries the request and pulls Squeaks to her feet. In those first two or three seconds that follow, she seems lost and unsure. A trip? Alaska? What could even be there except the promise of actual for reals dry land.
Squeaks looks down at her hands, fingers wringing and twisting together. “Um…” A quick look angles to the Cerberus, still resting peacefully in its moorings, then returns to Silas. “…When?”
Silas pauses at the sudden request for him to wait, regarding Jac with a frown; her question of when is met with a moment's consideration. "Soon as we can. The weather's lookin' nasty enough that making the trip by boat's not viable, so we're takin' the overland route. It's gonna be a hell of a hike, though, and it's gonna take a lot of prep if we want to make it through alive. So as soon as we get our prepwork done. Which is what I'm working on."
He lets out a slow breath, considering. "If you want to know more, maybe talk to Captain van Dalen; she's probably got more of a birds-eye view than I do. She might be able to tell you more about Alaska, too, if you're curious, seein' as how she's from there."
The slow but steady knitting of Squeaks’ brow implies a determination to have answers, almost like she's expecting a brush off. But when that doesn't happen, her expression becomes more sober and almost serious. An overland trip.
She steals a look at the ship that's been her home almost since she landed in this world. Captain Ben probably already knows about this. Probably he already knows details that Captain van Dalen knows too, and would share more with her than anyone else she could ask.
“I'm coming too.” Whichever she means, the journey to Alaska or just with the helping with the preparations really isn't clear. Knowing Squeaks, it's probably going to be both somehow. She holds up a finger to Silas, looks up at him a second later. “I'll be back in two and a half minutes, okay?” Her eyebrows lift as her statement curves upward as a question, but she runs for the ramp leading onto the ship without waiting for an answer.
Silas watches as Squeaks retreats, frowning. He isn't sure if she means to Alaska or to the market… though he supposes that the former is something that will be answered further down the line, while the latter should become apparent much more quickly.
He's tarried here longer than he'd planned, but he isn't so pressed that he can't spare two and a half minutes more. Having a member of the Cerberus crew onhand won't hurt, either, he muses, his frown turning contemplative. Ryans had had a respectable presence in the Pelago even before he'd captured the Sentinel's battleship, and a win like that sure hadn't lessened his reputation. Having one of his crew on hand might be taken as a tacit endorsement… which might make it a little easier to get the most out of those owed favors. His frown fades into a small grin; two and a half minutes is an acceptable price to pay. When the sun is shining, make hay after all.