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Miles Cross
A Livejournal "Changeling: The Lost" Game
Ha-Ha-Halloween Night 
31st-Oct-2007 12:12 am
not quite right
Gail is spending Halloween evening drunk off of other people's emotions. Well, sips of the chilled cider she keeps behind her guitar case doesn't hurt either.

Sitting on a bus stop bench in a residential neighborhood she is playing scary songs and basking in the excitement of the Trick-or-Treaters passing by. She doesn't have a costume herself besides the cheap nylon witch hat she found blowing down the street a few hours earlier. **But then again, aren't I always wearing my costume? This is fun; maybe I'll stop by Tom's Roadhouse on the way home for a few drinks. With luck I may find a suitable man to go bump in the night with.** She smiles at the thought. For the last few months her mind has been too preoccupied for such luxuries as idle lust. **But I don't want to grow cobwebs like the Professor, do I?** This train of thought bumps to a halt as she stops to compliment a child's costume and offer her a Snickers bar.
31st-Oct-2007 04:02 pm (UTC)
Potmetal John strolls through the night air, not having anywhere to go or anything to do. The modern cars and the way people act are just as strange to him as the costumed kids running about. **What kind of world did I come back to, anyway?**

For lack of anything better to do, he follows the guitar music that's been carried by the winds. His walk is slow, but measured. His heavy leaden body leaves deep impressions in the lawns and greens he plods through.

At the sight of the girl playing, he stops, some goodly ways off yet, and just watches her. In his second hand clothes and ill-fitting boots, he feels shabby as well as out of place. So he continues to stand and watch and listen, letting the little children run by him.
31st-Oct-2007 10:20 pm (UTC)
Gail subconsciously feels the charge of glamor as her fellow changeling approaches. She looks over at him and gives him a roguish smile. "Hey, Shoulders. Why don't you take a seat next to me," she says, without breaking stride in her playing. "you look like you could use a little break."
2nd-Nov-2007 10:59 am (UTC)
Potmetal hesitates, unsure how to react yet with other Lost. Eventually, his loneliness pushes him onward will he sits on the bench besides her. "Thanks."

His lead body causes the bench to creak as he sits. He doesn't look at her at first, his eyes instead on the trick-or-treaters passing by and his ears on her music. "Do you find it hard? Getting used to... this?"
2nd-Nov-2007 11:21 am (UTC)
She continues improvising on her guitar, her fingertips sliding across the steel strings with a metallic slither. She speaks softly.

"Toughest thing I ever had to do, and I didn't exactly lead a charmed life before. Helps to find a community or group until you find your feet. There's a freehold not too far away. They'd let you stay as long as you didn't cause trouble." She waits a few moments before asking, "How long have you been free?"
2nd-Nov-2007 11:34 am (UTC)
He shrugs. "Couple of days. Some kids helped me out. Got myself to a men's shelter, reeking of whiskey, claimed I'd been wandering since I was a kid." He scratches the bridge of his nose. "How long were you gone?"
2nd-Nov-2007 11:42 am (UTC)
"Nearly four years, real world time. I went to a shelter too at first, until they wanted to take me to the psyche ward. That's when I found out none of these people could see how I had changed." She strikes a discordant note and stops playing. "Truth of the matter is, as my new friend the Professor keeps pointing out to me is that you never really get used to it. But you learn to get by. I'm just picking up the pieces. I'm not the woman I was before, so I'm getting to know who I am again, in this patchwork life They left me... that and learning to defend myself."
2nd-Nov-2007 02:40 pm (UTC)
"Four years? Felt like I was only gone for four years. Not that I had any way of telling time in The Toy Box." Potmetal looks directly at her. "To tell you the truth? I don't think I will ever get used to it. Not this," he waves a hand at his metal body, "and not this world. I'm still trying to get over the idea that Ronald Regan of all people was president! When I was drafted, he was just this Hollywood guy..."

He rubs his hands together slowly. "I'm John, by the way. Potmetal John."
2nd-Nov-2007 05:34 pm (UTC)
"I don't think I will either, Shoulders. I don't even like dolls. I've been reading up on mythology, like with the Greek gods mortals were not meant to meet the gods. I'm lucky I didn't get turned into a laurel tree or something... Wait, you didn't know the so-called Great Communicator was president? How long were you gone?"
2nd-Nov-2007 07:08 pm (UTC)
John doesn't answer at first, just stares at his hands as he slowly rubs them together.

"Sixty-three years," he finally says. "Don't know if that's common or not. Funny thing. I keep thinking of getting back so I could see my girl. We were going to get married after the war; Mr. and Mrs. John and Betty Smith. That thought kept me going all that time in The Toy Box." He takes a deep breath. "Not sure what I'm going to do now."
3rd-Nov-2007 02:41 am (UTC)
A look of shock and empathy clouds her face. "Good Gog! Sixty-three years. Are you okay? Do you need help settling in and adjusting? I can't even imagine, it was hard enough for me starting over from nothing."

She puts a hand on his shoulder, more out of concern now than her earlier flirtation. She shows no shock or surprise at the chill of his flesh. In fact, a warmth seems to radiate from the young woman, like a memory of the August sunshine.
3rd-Nov-2007 11:08 pm (UTC)
Potmeteal smiles wanely at her touch. His opposite hand reaches up to pat hers. "Thanks. Guess being gone that long isn't too common, huh?" His fingers squeeze hers in gratitude before dropping back to his lap, although they do seem to linger on hers briefly.

"As far as adjusting... I need all the help I can get, I think. I haven't been coping too well. I nearly decked some moron at a local bar when he asked to see some I.D. Like I was in Pennsylvania or something!"

He sighs and looks down at his feet. "To be honest with you... part of me is thinking of going back."
14th-Nov-2007 11:51 pm (UTC)
"None of that crazy talk! As fucked as the Twenty-First Century seems sometimes, it's better than You-Know-Where. I'll help you as much as I can."

She gets a far off look for a second, looking out into the night. When she turns back her button eyes flash briefly bright orange in the mercury vapor streetlights. "Did you mention a toy box earlier? That reminds me of my time over There..."
15th-Nov-2007 07:09 am (UTC)
"Yeah," he says faintly, "The Toy Box. It's where we were... kept, I guess you could say. All the toy soldiers, and there were a lot of us... And there was Teddy... Jack... a lot of others, I think. It's getter harder and harder to remember it all, though. We were in the Toy Box. There were others in the Backyard, more like animals than... what we were. And there were the dolls on The Bed. We were never allowed on the Bed, although I once I managed to creep up there when I wasn't being watched. That didn't last too long." John shudders suddenly, putting his hands to his face as if to wipe away something. "I only ever saw one of the dolls again, and that was while we were escaping."

John falls silent again for several moments before chuckling, "Damn, I want a cig right now. Sixty years without a smoke; my ma would be proud."
18th-Nov-2007 02:48 pm (UTC)
"I don't smoke, but I'll buy you a pack of Luckys if it would make you at ease. Your time Away sounds a little like mine, but I don't remember that much. More vague things, the feel of it. Like being one of those puppets with the strings on the limbs, or one of those felt hand puppets and having someone else's hand inside your head, manipulating you... Damn, now I could use a vice of some sort."

"Sixty years... Hell, you've missed Little Richard, Ray Charles, Elvis, the entire British Invasion, disco, glam rock, Alice Cooper, David Bowie... damn!" She shakes her head.
18th-Nov-2007 08:38 pm (UTC)
John snorts. "Any vice would be good right now. No smokes, no drinks, no sex, sixty years...I still can't believe it. I still can't believe any of th-"

He stops suddenly, the look of astonishment on his face is near comical. "The British WHAT? When was this??"
18th-Nov-2007 08:41 pm (UTC)
She blinks. "I'm talking about music; the Brits are still our best allies don't worry about that. The British Invasion is a term for the popularity of pop music bands from England back in the Sixties."
18th-Nov-2007 08:50 pm (UTC)
"Oh." John shakes his head. "Sorry, Beautiful. Everything else is so..." He spreads his hands helplessly. "I didn't know if that was one more strangeness or not. 'Cause I gotta tell you, I hate tea."

19th-Nov-2007 12:45 am (UTC)
"Well then here, have a cider." She offers a cold beverage. "Were you really a soldier? I ask because my boss and I have a dangerous job to do and he asked me to find someone who knows how help protect us."
19th-Nov-2007 06:17 pm (UTC)
John takes the offered drink. "Yeah. Was drafted just after I got engaged. Last thing I remember was taking a small scouting party to check out a bridge somewhere in Germany. After that..." he shrugs, "It was fighting, every day. Killing other toy soldiers whether we wanted to or not. As far as helping, I'll do what I can, but I don't have any weapons."
19th-Nov-2007 09:34 pm (UTC)
"I'm sorry for your loss. I've lost everything, my band and my name, but no one was foolhardy enough to marry me..." She shakes her head as if to ward sorrow away.

"Thank you. I can see if we can mooch some weaponry from somewhere; maybe a fire axe at the least. Alright, I may have gotten C's in social studies and history but I promise to catch you up on world events and culture, and help settle you into Miles Cross if you help me with this mission, into the hedge. Is it agreed?" She offers her hand, palm down. She holds her breath as the telltale feeling of expectation- tingling down her spine and across her forearms- accompany the proposed pledge.
20th-Nov-2007 08:09 am (UTC)
"Sure, it's a deal. Not like my dance card is filled at the moment anyway," John jokes. He covers her smaller hand in his, sealing the agreement.

"So..." He continues in a voice that might be described as shy, "when you say 'no one,' does that mean you're-" His eyes grow wide as the sensation of the vow takes hold. "Damn! What the hell was that??"
20th-Nov-2007 02:40 pm (UTC)
I've been traveling non-stop for the last year, Shoulders. No time for romance. I've been working on learning self-defense and keeping myself in shape. Hell, this last month in Miles Cross is the first month I've spent in one town since I got back." She starts noodling around on her guitar again. "I might not know much Glen Miller, but do you have any requests?
20th-Nov-2007 06:31 pm (UTC)
John stares at his hand, still wondering at the sensation. Shortly, he answers her question. "Yeah, I gotta request. Do you wanna go grab a cup of coffee... or something?"
20th-Nov-2007 10:26 pm (UTC)
She turns and gives him a big smile. "Sure, I'd like that." She begins to put her stuff away. "Do you have a place in mind."
21st-Nov-2007 06:52 am (UTC)
The look of somber depression seems to lift a bit from the soldier's leaden features. **What's the old saying? 'Three things cause sorrow to flee: water, green trees and a beautiful face.'**

John stands and offers her a hand. "Nope. 'Fraid I can't offer to take you back to my place either. The shelter kinda frowns on that, I think. What's open this late?" He smiles broadly. "I can even pay. The shelter actually gave me ten dollars! I don't know how they can afford to just give out that much money!"
21st-Nov-2007 01:16 pm (UTC)
Her smile wavers a little. **I'd better hold off for now on the inflation talk.**

"Okay, how about Moonshadows. It's a few blocks down the road." After hefting her guitar case over her shoulder she offers her arm."Thanks for giving a girl with no Halloween plans some company."
25th-Nov-2007 02:42 pm (UTC)
John's smile becomes something a little more shy. He takes the offered arm as they head down the street. He watches the children darting past them and around them, all in costumes and masks.

"Now what's that you were saying before about music?"
2nd-Dec-2007 04:44 am (UTC)
She gladly walks with him in the general direction of the coffee shop, in no hurry.

"Well, it all started with rhythm and blues music soon after you were taken..."
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