taxonomites | 09 | VISUAL | FLATS ABOVE DODGY JAMMER | IN THE MIDDLE OF A GUNFIGHT, IN THE CENTER OF A RESTAURANT

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09 | VISUAL | FLATS ABOVE DODGY JAMMER | IN THE MIDDLE OF A GUNFIGHT, IN THE CENTER OF A RESTAURANT

Party clicks on the tablet and it's not the usual place--instead it's a room. It's sparse, but in the background all of the furniture has been upturned, and the door behind him as two interesting additions: a spider logo familiar to anyone who's seen Party's car or street side graffiti, and three locks on top of the ones the place already has. Somewhere to the left among the trash and the upturned mattress there's what looks like the beginnings of another art project, something fresh, a skeletal little creature.

The redhead--he's bleached and dyed his hair back--rubs his eyes, frustrated, and gazes at the screen for a few minutes. The cornered, wild dog look is back, fiercer than ever.

"Those glitches? There has to be some sorta pattern. Some cross-eyed message from the Angels of God, some anti-matter we can throw into their master plan." Oh yes, Party's back. "But that's what I gotta explain, motorbabies. Listen up."

He tilts his head to the side. "Apparently Kobra Kid and I went all Costa Rica and started streaking with no lights home. Pumpin' up the volume isn't going to do anything but it got the attention of the Sheriff. I'm thinking that's why it happened so soon." It's a theory, but Party has many, swirling in his head. "Think of the last moment you pissed off an Extra, did a glitch occur after that? It could be some form of punishment..." He snaps his fingers, corners of his mouth twitching. Trying to act casual and not at all suspicious about this last statement, the most important one. Hoping his usual pokerface can't be read by anyone out here.

"You zonerats and diesel darlings forget whatever me and him told you. The sun is my mother the desert is ymy father and I am Party fucking Poison and I'm sung about from the hymnal of the wastes, raised with JuV Halls and Ritalin Rats and angels made from neon and fucking garbage."

There's a grim smile. "We don't even remember our real names." The same poker face. "Christened in acid rain, hear?"

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Kobra's still at the forest. He feels better out there because any kind of room makes him feel claustrophobic at the moment. He hasn't made himself at home at the Dodgy Jammer. He'll probably just crash with Party anyway.

Starring at the tablet Kobra rolls his eyes and huffs. When he speaks his voice is croaky and nasal. He's down with a stupid fucking cold and his chest hurts like a bitch, but he's still taking a drag of a newly lit cigarette.

"Did you have to make such a big production of this?" he asks, glaring slightly at the tablet. He isn't wearing sunglasses for a change, eyes red with dark circles underneath them.

"People would've probably forgotten about everything we said anyway, too busy going Costa Rice out over their own glitches. But you gotta scream it out there and remind 'em. Cut the dramatics." Kobra is definitely NOT in a good mood. He wants to pop pills and sleep, but it isn't an option. "Get off the waves, motorbaby, or I'm gonna sing a hymn about you."

It's Party Poison. He has to make a big production of everything, but he notices Kobra's mood and he wrinkles his nose. That's why the first thing out of his mouth completely disregards everything that he's been saying, because...Well. He knows Kobra. He also knows Kobra's right, but let's push that aside for now.

"You're getting a cold, aren't you?" It's amazing Party doesn't have one yet, though he can feel a tickle in his throat. "That's exactly why I've been checking this place out." He motions to the upturned things around. He has, in his own way. "I think it's fine if we both crash here... And you're not going outside if you're gonna get a damn fever. C'mon, crankypants."

"I'm fine," Kobra snaps. This is so not the point. "I like it here," he adds with a slight pout. He isn't going to leave.

"This isn't about me, this is about you not shutting up. I don't want anyone to know more than they do and I don't want you to remind them."

"Hey." Party's voice comes off as snappish, as annoyed, and he quickly realizes what exactly he did before sighing, disgruntled.

"Kobra. C'mon, I'm just making sure and from the sounds of it, no one even remembers anyway. So.." He flapped his arms, looking a bit like a duck trying to take flight.

"Get your stubborn ass over here and under some blankets."

Kobra wasn't about to give in though, in one of those moods where he was annoyed with the world. And he felt miserable, which only added to that.

"No. Keep your Gwen-infested blankets," he huffed, lighting another cigarette and trying not to cough. "I'm fine. Stop fretting and get off the grid."

"I fret, it's what I do, and need I remind you the countless times it's saved your sorry ass from charging in to a buncha goddamn Exxie trash?!" Has Party...lost his temper?

The redhead takes a deep breath and his hands fly to his face, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Look.. Come on. I'm just trying to protect you, I don't need your fucking temper right now. Come over here and rest a little, will you?"

"Need I remind you of the countless times I've saved your stubborn know-it-all ass from getting yourself dusted?" Kobra snaps back, trying not to think of the time when he couldn't save Party.

"I don't have a temper!" Kobra yelling, voice scratchy, completely voids his statement. "I don't need to rest, I'm fine."

Yelling on a tablet, huh? They rarely fought, but when they did... Party's just glad they're not near each other now because one of them was going to start swinging and there was no Jet to stop them or Grace to start crying.

"You're not fine, you're a lunatic runnin' on half cycles. Your pistons aren't up to date and you're gonna wind up running yourself ragged so shut the fuck up and get your scrawny ass over here before I dust you."

"Yeah and you're one to talk," Kobra retorted. "Hit your red line a long time ago, motorbaby."

Huffing he takes another drag of his cigarette. "I'd like to see you try," he smirks, the kind of smirk younger siblings have perfected.

"Fine," He's hissing now, a growl that's more than an annoyed brotherly tone. He's had it up to here.

"I'm only trying to protect you from god knows what since I've been here before you and I'm your older fucking brother. I can handle myself, and I've been doing just fine. Don't give me your crazy wavehead stories, you're not and the whole reason I'm here is because you need a place that's not outside like DIE Diner."

"I can fucking handle myself perfectly on my own," Kobra snaps, impatient now. "Just cause you're older means nothing." he finishes his cigarette and throws it away.

"I don't need you to find me a place. I'm not a halfgrown cityrat."

wrong thing to say. The redhead glares at the blonde, taking the tablet in hand and narrowing his eyes.

"Don't fucking start," he snaps. "You're my brother and its my job. Age or not. Get off your high horse."

"I'm not a job," Kobra snaps. "you get off your fucking high horse. I can look after myself and I'm fine where I am."

God fucking dammit. Party gives Kobra the look, which moves into a heavy, lead-fueled sigh.

"Kobra... Just..." He's reaching for straws.

"Keep warm or I'll kick your ass. I have shit to do."

"Just do whatever is so important then," Kobra snaps. "I would hate to interrupt you being a tragic hero." And with that the visual cuts off, the electronic equivalent of Kobra storming out angrily.

"Your brother asked pretty much the same thing, you know," Glitch pointed out. "Only you've got a better way with words."

Really he couldn't quite follow everything Party said, but it all sounded dramatically epic. He could get behind that, he's a sucker for a rousing speech. "So: no, there's no pattern, there's nothing you did to provoke them and nothing you can do to prevent them. I've never done anything wrong and I get hit with them all the time."

The man called Glitch let the name thing go; he had his own reasons for hanging onto an alias.

There's a hint of pride in his voice, jaw set a little high. Oh yeah, of course Kobra asked. "Kobra Kid isn't stupid," He pointed out, with a slight 'atta-boy' tone. And then, because he's either paranoid or has a habit of over thinking things or maybe both (probably both):

"Okay, so you don't think you messed with 'em, sure, but what if you did? I've been thinkin'. There could be a whole different culture up there for the fuzzy beasts, follow? And wars. 'Cause I can't think of any place where no wars exist. Anyway--so what if you did something that annoys them but you have, like, no idea you're doing that? Ever just think and think and then get carried away?"

"You have no idea," Glitch remarked, wry. Time was all he'd wanetd to do was think, and he'd try so hard and get so lost in his own fragmented thoughts that he'd need someone else to rescue him. Now, with a full brain and endless, impossible puzzles to try and figure out? He wished it would stop.

"But that's...actually a good point. We don't know that much about what they're like." Hamsters. Sharks. Men in towels. "All I know is they believe this place is our home, they're always watching us, and about a year and a half ago they called me inspirational. I think that's why I get picked on."

"If it's our home, though, why not just erase our memories of previous homes? Why make sure we know? They want us to fight back." Party's paranoia is on a role, especially now that he has someone to bounce off on. Good job, Glitch. "Dr. D says the best offense is to hunker down and get off the grid. I always thought it was stupid--and I'm not about to lay low--but what if we try to get to know 'em more?"

He holds up his hands, and there's panic in his eyes.

"Not kumbiyah levels, just.. maybe understand what we're doing to make the fuzzy exxie bastards go all glitch-y on us. Not Glitch, but glitch, if you follow my jive." Did that even make sense?

"There's gotta be others. Can't all be automatons. Shit, Glitch, even people in Battery City wake up and realize what's goin'. So we get to them. Start a revolution, a freedom fight, a gunfight in a restaurant. Pull the pin, let the world explode."

Good job. He's ranting now.

Suddenly Glitch wished he'd fought harder against the agonizing existential identiy crisis Cain had dropped on his head and just started calling himself Ambrose. Fortunately he was spared the spiral of furious self-loathing that thought usually inspired by Party being absoltuely terrifying. He closed his eyes and shook his head.

"Is there any chance at all you're being metaphorical with that...carnage-y bit?"

Party says nothing. His lips tighten and his brow furrows, but his pokerface is pretty damn good.

"Isn't it obvious?" He says at last, and then quickly locks the feed, changing the subject as fast as he drives.

"DG," he says simply.

...oh shit, son. Good job. Stuff being on fire is suddenly irrelevant, that's kind of a big deal for a scarecrow.

"What about her?" Glitch's pokerface? Not so hot.

"Kobra thinks she's killjoy material. I think he may be right." There's a guarded tone to his voice, staring Glitch down.

"How long you been here, exxie cityrat?"

Glitch knows an insult when he hears one. He also knows he's been called worse and so raises his chin, defiant.

"Two annuals, twenty days," he replies easily. "I've been here longer than anyone, for what it's worth. What do you mean, 'killjoy material'?"

"Yeah, what a happenstance." Party's sneering, mainly because when he's alone without Kobra his mind spirals.

"Killjoy material. Like us. Not like us exactly, but...she's got spunk. A fight. A spark that you and a lotta your cityrat friends." His lips part, his head shakes.

"I think you gotta be watched is all. Don't trust you. Or the S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W."

"Well," Glitch begins and raises his eyebrows. "Ditto. I don't much trust you or your brother either."

Which is why he's absoltuely certain the Killjoys' revolutionary plans are anything but metaphorical.

"And yeah, DG's really feisty and shiny, what are you getting at?" He's already threatened one brother over her coming to harm and is fully prepared to make it two.

"Kobra? At least he knows where his loyalties are," There's a bit of venom in his words--after all, he still thinks Glitch is all but lying down. "Which brings me to this whole shindig." He takes a deep breath, tries to remember Glitch probably doesn't know much lingo (doesn't look that smart, kinda meek, almost straw-man), and begins:

"You disapprove of Kobra and DG, or whatever it is your cityrat shenanigans imply? You do anythin' to Kobra? Expect a grand clap so big you'll be pickin' dust outta your ears because I shoved a fistful of sand so far up your exxie--"

Easy.

Party takes a breath and tries again.

"Don't go hoverin' around like a genie," He says simply. "DG can take care of herself and Kobra's never hurt anyone he liked since I've known him, inside or out the zones. And that's all my life."

That registers as an insult: not the crassness, not the exxie cityrat nonsense, but even the questioning of his loyalties...

Glitch's expression hardens, but he makes himself focus, to make his point without letting emotions (spark) get in the way.

"I'm not planning on doing anything to anyone," he begins, speaking as clearly as possible. "And yes, DG's perfectly capable of taking care of herself. And I'm actually not at all worried about your brother or you ever harming her."

Which was absoltuely true, funnily enough. There was no reason to doubt that they liked her. But...

"What I am worried about is...am I right in thinking that finding trouble, or having it come looking for you, is another Killjoy trait?"

"Some of us have been here for years," DG pointed out, "We've tried looking for patterns. We've tried everything we can think of. We're still stuck here."

She wasn't angry at him for the suggestion - it was understandable, after all, and none of this was Party's fault - but she was tired of the city and it's games. That weariness and irritation was clear in her voice.

(And she didn't believe his denial for a moment, either.)

Edited 2011-11-02 20:47 (UTC)

"Again. Again with the we've tried everythin'." Party shoots a slightly annoyed look back, before remembering that DG was both Kobra's friend and he nearly flew out of his tree because of something she said.

Here, have some overprotective brother.

"You think you're Killjoy material? Stop with the 'tried' and start with the 'do.'"

"We have. It's not just a phrase, it's a fact. We've tried science, we've tried magic. What would you suggest?"

She was surprised by his sudden hostility, meeting it with a frown.

"Killjoy material? If that involves blowing up innocent people, what makes you think I want to be one?"

Party snorts. DG's on shakey ground with him, mostly because of Kobra but mainly because whenever he looks at her he can't stop thinking of Korse, it sets his nerves on fire and he feels an odd pit in his stomach. Why the hell DG would trigger it he has no idea but the fact remains the glare is a little dialed down but still all narrowed eyes and steely gaze.

"Try harder," He snaps. "You know nothin' about Kobra Kid or me, try not judgin, huh?"

There was a lot that DG didn't know about the brothers, that was true, but there was also a lot that she did know and a lot of gaps that she could fill herself. That was why she wanted to befriend them and help them, rather than hanging them out to dry for their mistake with the bombs. She firmly believed that people deserved a second chance. Especially people who'd been through what they'd been through.

She met his gaze, but took care not to snap out her reply.

"I won't judge you if you do the same for me."

Edited 2011-11-03 22:29 (UTC)

She's definitely an ambassador. Party's lips part, quiet for a few seconds, taking in all she had to say before responding carefully, neutrally, much in the same way DG had just done.

"Hey. I get it. You want to keep running. We all do."

He rubs at his eyes, frowning, wrinkling his nose like a rabbit for a few seconds.

"Be careful with Kobra."

"The only place I want to run to is home. That's what every prisoner here wants. Even if you don't believe anything else I have to say, you have to believe that."

And she had a feeling that he would. He listened - genuinely listened - to what she had to say and she returned the favour. It was almost as if they'd reached an unspoken agreement.

"He's my friend. Of course I will be."

"'Course, but your friend," one in particular, "Looks and acts like someone in a bad way. circular conversation or not, motorbaby, I'm not trustin' you guys as far as I can throw you." Another pause, and Party genuinely thinks about his words.

"You I could throw. The zipper guy seems pretty light. Korse, on the other hand..."

At that, DG almost let out a snort of derisive laughter. She was a witch - a witch with a lot of power, even if a great deal of it was currently untapped - and he'd get more than he bargained for is he tried anything with her.

The rest of his words - the threat against her family - was more of a problem.

"Don't even think about hurting Glitch," she said, immediately. Her friends could take care of themselves, yes, but that wasn't the point. They didn't have to. They looked out for each other. "Or Cain."

Edited 2011-11-10 21:10 (UTC)

"Woah woah woah," Have some hands flashed infront of her, a tell-tale 'I'm unarmed!' sign. "No need to get your pistons cycling, crash queen. That was a joke. A bad joke, but.."

There's a mumble about how he should learn to stop talking in metaphors before his gaze flicks up on the screen.

"I'm just sayin'. Kobra really trusts that you're Killjoy material."

"How would you take it if someone made a joke like that about your brother?" she pointed out. Especially if the person making a joke was as unpredictable and potentially dangerous as Party Poison.

The dust settled, however, she realised that he hadn't intended it as a threat.

"Ok. I know that's a compliment. I'll ... try and live up to it."

Living up to it? Party wants to point out that the average lifespan for a killjoy is...well, they're expected to die anyday now. Instead, he stifles the thought because he's already on shakey ground. For all his preaching to Kobra, he's got to play nice. Playing...

Oh. Woah. Something's clicked, and it shows on the redhead's face.

"That bass wasn't for him. It was for you, wasn't it?"

"Yes," DG confirmed, giving him a somewhat bemused look. "He's teaching me to play. I didn't realise it was a secret."

She had been delighted (and a little surprised, of course) by the gift. It hadn't occurred to her until it was too late that Kobra might not have bothered paying for it. Not that she blamed him for her brief spell in prison. Their world was very different to every other world she knew of.

This is rich. This is rich. Something moves to Party's face and absolutely all the doubt and suspicion is gone because he looks..Amused. Genuinely amused, so much so he snorts and leans forward, putting the palm of his hand to his chin and looking a bit like a girl as he rests his elbow on his knee.

"Secrets mean a lot to us Killjoys. You play that bass with all your heart, crash queen, but Kobra's a shit teacher. He'll stay there and," He tries to do his best Kobra impersonation: pokerface, intense gaze, lack of emotion.

".......'Like this.'"

Hey, he's the older brother. He's supposed to make fun of his sibling. Especially since this news was rich.

Did siblings make fun of each other? DG didn't remember enough of her time with Azkadellia to know whether or not their relationship worked that way. All she knew was that they'd been closed and that they'd been stronger together. And that she'd got her elder sister into trouble on more than one occasion.

"He's doing find," she said, defending Kobra with a slight frown on her face. It was a good impression, but she was also working on bringing the younger killjoy out of his shell. Music animated him in a way that no other topic did.

"Hey, he's my brother. I'd die for him." Had died for him, apparently. But that didn't mean he could spot Kobra's crush from a mile away among a sandstorm.

"He's.." Party trails off, and there's sincerity in his voice next: "it takes a certain person to perk him up. Get on his radar, y'know? Friends are a weird thing for us. Family's more important, so.."

Oh, god. Party's wincing at how sappy this is.

"Check yourself with him 'for I have to check you."

"Sometimes, family and friends can be the same thing," DG pointed out, pretending that she hadn't noticed the way he'd winced in response to his own words. The killjoys weren't the sort of people to go in for public admissions of affection.

"I'm not going to hurt him. I want to be his friend. Your friend, too, if you want."

Everyone needed friends. Especially in a place like Taxon.

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09 | VISUAL | FLATS ABOVE DODGY JAMMER | IN THE MIDDLE OF A GUNFIGHT, IN THE CENTER OF A RESTAURANT

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