strangetrip | [EP/GP] Today is Check-In Day

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[EP/GP] Today is Check-In Day

When the fifteenth of the month came and went without any new arrivals, most people logically supposed that there would be no new arrivals that week, or that the pattern they believed they'd found was false after all.

Kitty Pryde, Caroline Forbes, and Phryne Fisher were decidedly not most people.

Between them, they agreed it would be best to keep a watch for a few days following the fifteenth, on the grounds that, often enough, holidays interrupted regular schedules, which would reassert themselves again at the next instance. If "keeping a watch" had required them to do anything out of the ordinary, they might have been somewhat less sanguine about it. Might have, as they were not, after all, most people. Yet since their routines, almost invariably, had them in public places, working and people-watching, it required no special effort on their part to be alert for new arrivals.

So it was that Phryne had taken up a table in the lobby cafe to read and hold court, while Kitty took an extra shift tending bar, and Caroline tidied up and labeled the boxes of decorations from Valentine's day "for next year's residents" on the morning of the sixteenth and again on the seventeenth--and not one of them were surprised when, in early afternoon, newcomers began to arrive.

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"Impressive," he said. Most of the hand built weapons he'd seen were basically pipe weaponry. They sure as shit didn't fold far as he knew.

He shifted in his seat so Percy could more clearly see the 10mm on his hip. "This one my friend modded for me."

And then, a little gleeful glint in his eye sparkled as he moved to take out a few more. Good Intentions, The Problem Solver, another pause and a thoughtful look before he added the gamma gun and an Institute laser rifle. Would the melee weapons be interesting? He didn't know. Maybe in a bit.

"Those first two we got off some raiders. The second off some crazy member of the Children of Atom and..." He paused and considered the laser rifle, frowning a little, "pretty sure that last one just came from a synth."

Percy considered himself an expert on firearms, after all, he was responsible for every one of the weapons currently available in Exandria. But he'd never even begun to imagine the sheer variety of weapons that MacCready had lain out before him. In spite of himself, he leaned forward, trying to parse what he was looking at. Where did the bullets go? What was the purpose of the strange parabolic muzzle? Why the garish paint job?

"What sort of damage do they do? Purely physical or is there a magical augmentation?" Dear god, was this what he'd unleashed on the world? He could almost hear a smokey laugh curling through his mind.

"Well, these two are ballistic, this one's radiation and that's energy," he said, leaning forward and pointing to each weapon in turn. Did radiation exist wherever Percy was from? He didn't know. It really didn't seem all that common here. Not like he had a geiger counter or anything, but by now he sure as shit knew what taking rads felt like.

"Do they have atomic energy where you're from?" Maybe when he was from. MacCready didn't know when the gun had been invented in the first place. Maybe that was what they looked like in the beginning? Hell if he knew. History from any time before the bombs dropped wasn't really all that detailed.

"Not by that name if we do." Percy looked up from the guns, curious now. He'd never heard of radiation, and was still wondering what sort of energy the other gun used.

He nodded and thought for a moment how to explain something that was simply a fact of life where he was from to someone else. It wasn't like trying to explain a deathclaw. Monsters were monsters. Nukes and crap were all science and he wasn't ever any good at that.

"Okay, so," he frowned again, "there's like building blocks or whatever that you can't see that make up basically everyone and a long ass time ago some scientists figured out how to I guess split those even tinier." He cleared his throat. "And some people used it to like power lights and stuff in whole cities and robots and cars and all that, and others used it to make bombs and weapons and crap and when those bombs drop they make huge explosions like miles and all the dirt and rubble and everything from those detonation spots blows up into the atmosphere and spreads out even further. If you're lucky, the explosion or the shockwave or shit even the fire kill you."

Did that seem right? That seemed right. "What gets laced into all that and left behind once all that is over is radiation and that stays. Nothing grows at the impact site and for miles around it. It gets slowly less worse but if you get hit with too many rads it'll kill you slowly. 'S not like gettin poisoned or anything. Poison's easy to get better from. It's like...like you're decaying." His voice got soft and sad, eyes gone a little distant. "The bombs dropped over two hundred years ago. There's still places where you can't go 'cause of the radiation. You wouldn't last more than a few minutes just standing in it."

Percy listened to the explanation, simultaneously horrified and impressed. He could imagine that scale of destruction with magic, with a mage who was mad enough. The explosion at Pyrah, the remains of Glintshore, the destruction wrought by Thordak, the poisoned Feywild of Saundor's madness. But hundreds of years of it caused by science? That was the sort of thing that he had nightmares about unleashing on the world. "It sounds like a blight spell."

MacCready thought about that for a couple beats and then nodded. "Seems close enough. Magic isn't really a thing where I'm from. It's all science and surviving."

He took a swig of his wine. "Anyway, that tiny thing'll fu- mess you up pretty bad. I don't even keep ammo it it, but I'm not stupid enough to think I've got the skill to destroy it safely."

"Magic has its uses. Unfortunately, I'm not a magic user myself." A few little tricks didn't count. "You're interested in destroying it?"

"If I could? Absolutely. This place ain't the world I left. I don't...I don't want something I had with me to send it down that path somehow." He shook his head. "I just don't feel like it's possible."

Percy nodded thoughtfully. He didn't know anything about radiation, but he knew something about locking away dangerous artifacts. "I'll help, if I can. It would be easier if my party was here. They're...extremely creative."

MacCready nodded, starting to put away some of his guns. No sense in keeping things looking like an arms deal gone weird. "I'd appreciate that." He was a sniper, not a scientist.

"What's your party like?" He kept referencing them. Might as well try and get him talking about them.

"They're..." He thought of the Vox Machina. Of the insane, broken, brilliant men and women that had been his family after he'd lost his own. He thought of Scanlan, irreverent and unpredictable but reliable in the clutch. He thought of Grog, strong, with a heart even stronger than his rage. Of Vax, dark, searching, trying to prove something. He reminded Percy of himself. Keyleth, his best friend, the light to his darkness and the optimism to his cynicism.

Vex'ahlia. Beautiful Vex'ahlia, who had his heart. Who was his match in wit and guile.

And Pike, the best of them all. The one whose trust they all worked to be worthy of.

"The're all completely mad. And they recently saved the world."

MacCready smiled a little. "Sounds like a story worth hearing if you're up to telling it." He leaned back in his chair once he got the rest of his weapons put away.

Percy considered, then drained his wine glass and refilled it. He was going to need something to keep his throat wet if he was going to tell this properly.

"To Vox Machina." He lifted the glass. "It all began when we returned to our home in Emon. Sovereign Uriel Tal'dorei asked Vox Machina to attend an announcement of some sort. As the ceremony began, a flight of four chromatic dragons descended on the city..."

Percy wove the story of Emon's destruction. Of the battle for Greyskull Keep and their eventual flight from the city.

The whole tale was absolutely enthralling. MacCready hadn't been so caught up in anything since he'd first listened to the Silver Shroud dramas back at Good Neighbor (those got old after a while, not like there were new episodes.)

Once Percy finally finished, MacCready let out a heavy breath. "Shit," he said, running his hand through his hair.

There was a heavy pause. Nodding to himself, he pulled out one of his laser rifles and offered it to the guy. "For you to screw around with, yeah? Not a big energy weapons guy myself." They couldn't be silenced. What was the point?

He took the last dregs of his wine. "For the story." He cleared his throat. "And out of apology for not stopping you in the middle of it. Pretty sure you're one of the lucky bastards who ain't completely alone here."

Percy took the gun slowly, and somewhat unsteadily. It was lighter than he expected but hardly the thing that most had his attention. He frowned at MacCready, then set the rifle down. He lifted a finger to his ear to activate the spell earring Tiberius had created.

"Can anyone hear me? It's Percy."

"Vax," MacCready said, stretching. They'd been sitting for way too long. It'd been worth it. "Me and him got here the same day." He didn't know when in Percy's timeline Vax'ilan was from, but clearly things were super weird with that. Inconsistent.

Complicated.

"He's a stealthy bastard, though. Haven't really kept much track of him."

It was good news, though, right? Percy and Vax both now totally had someone who understood them and they seemed like decent enough guys. He was glad for them. It made him feel even lonelier, but whatever. He did something right for once in his goddamn life.

Cleaned up following the whole experience with Alcuin, Vax had taken some time to pray in the dark of his room. He didn't know as he'd actually call it that - he had no temple here, no pool of blood, and he'd never had much training in what made for good manners in service of a death deity. But it had seemed important, given what he'd done, to acknowledge Her presence in some way.

It took him a good minute to realize he wasn't imagining the familiar voice, that it was coming through the black pearl of his earring rather than something more mystical.

"Percy!" He sat bolt upright, grabbing the nearly forgotten earring to answer as his thoughts raced to make sense of what he was hearing. "Is that really you?!"

Edited 2017-02-21 14:38 (UTC)

"Vax'ildan! Are you alive? Or are we dead?" Percy half stood as Vax's voice came over the earring. The table rattled and wine sloshed over the edge of the glasses.

He looked down at MacCready, almost frantic. "Where is he?" Then over the earring, "where are you? This place is hideous."

MacCready moved within seconds of Percy doing so, half out of alarm and concern and half to make sure he didn't end up with wine on his clothes, 'cause really that was just excessive.

"This place is huge, how the hell am I supposed to know where he is at any given moment? It's not like I have elf-sense. Tell him you're in the café. If he can't come down here, I can take you to where he is." He shifted warily on his feet, ready to catch Percy if he had to. The guy'd been unsteady before. Last thing he needed was his body realizing how much it still hurt and to take a header into the table or the carpet. Vax was really not gonna forgive him if that happened.

"He's a half-elf," Percy corrected as he let MacCready guide him back down into his seat. The last two feet, his legs gave way and he thumped onto the bench.

He pressed the earring again, this time with his head leaned against the back of the booth and his eyes closed. "We are in the cafe. There's wine."

"You're drunk as a skunk," Vax'ildan realized, halfway between amused and dumbstruck. And he was here. Vax had almost thought they'd just managed a way to make the earrings work at a greater distance - but Percy was actually here. "Don't you dare move, yeah? You just sit your highborn ass down right there and I'll come to you."

He was already up, throwing his room door closed behind him as he raced down the hall.

We are in the cafe. Did that mean...?

Percy dropped his hand from his ear and reached for his wine. "He's going to be a mother hen about this," he predicted to MacCready, largely because in addition to being a stealthy asshole who reminded Percy entirely too much of himself at times, Vax was also a kind hearted fussbudget.

"How long did you say you've been here?"

"Bout six weeks," MacCready said, grabbing a napkin to clean up the spilled wine while they waited for Vax. This was going to be...interesting.

The few smaller black feathers that got away from Vax's cloak in his hurry - dead run on the straightaways, dropping right down over the railing in the stairwell to tumble back onto his feet - probably made the hen remark seem especially fit.

By the time he burst through the front of the cafe, he needed to catch his breath, a few strands of dark hair come loose about his face. His eyes found Percy - well bloodied, obviously wobbly, powder smudges and dirt in the usual places to suggest he'd been in battle before all this - but he had enough color in him (and a bit of wine flush at his face) to suggest he'd got healing somewhere. Vax took a moment to just stand there and give him an emotional smile that spoke of gratitude and relief.

He couldn't help but continue to look around the place as he approached their table - there was MacCready, whom he obviously owed something... But where were the others?

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