After the Fall (For Rissa).

[Leonid]

The woman scratched mechanically another dent on the wooden walls of her makeshift shack. Even though the heavy draped black curtains blocked almost of the sunlight, she knew another day had passed from the residue on heat on the planks of rusty corrugated iron, and the scratching of early bugs and birds on the little cracks along the walls. She had long given up on counting the days, like she had given up on trying to build more decent quarters for herself, merely contenting herself with patching and mending whatever cracks and fissures appeared in this remote cabin. It was a sad, wounded thing, much in line with herself.

But then, everything had been wounded since the day the whole world had gone sliding downwards to hell, eaten up by the cancer of its own corrupted morals, and engulfed in nuclear flame. This act was nothing more than another ritual, another stubborn defiance. One attempt more to imbred some order into the chaos that had ensued after the fall, a hint of routine, discipline and order in among the broken ridges and wastes of a world that seemed to have ceased to have a use for any of them a million years ago.

Or perhaps a couple of days. Did it really matter?

Time did not matter here. Time was abstract, undefined. A concept slithering out of your field of vision. A memory of more complicated times, where complex nets of interest, power, greed and corruption had dictated the flow of the world, right before they destroyed it. Time was like dust or grime, a patina hanging over the objects on the dismal interior of the shed. Plastic barrels with water and crystal jars with stripes of cut meat kept in salt or marinated for conservation took up most of the northern wall. Rusty metal tins with other less agreeable substances lay strewn around- a dry, dense and foul-smelling dark green paste for cuts and bruises. Urine-streaked mud for camouflage. Yellowish, slightly rancid fat for cooking and burning, and a dark brownish liquid with a dense, clogging smell that seemed to scrape at the nostrils and the mouth for keeping insects out, amongst other even less identifiable things. On the corner, a thick, dust-caked matress and a duvet dyed a drab grey by use marked the place where she slept. The only thing in the place that didn't seem rusted, old or broken was the rifle.

A US army issue Browning Automatic Rifle. Back in the day, a million years ago, where she had been a soldier at the Rangers, she could have said a lot of things about it- its story during the Second World War, his components and parts, the firing mechanisms and the maintenance instructions, its accuracy range and loading mechanism. He could have explained, back then, how this old model had been replaced for more modern, effective assault rifles.

Now, she could also explain how those modern wonders, with all their small pieces and polymer bodies, hadn´t served her comrades in arms all that well, when the choking dust of the nuclear winter, the acid rains, the searing temperature shifts and the clouds of dust rolling over the barren, cracked land, had taken their toll on them, and had caused them to jam and stop working one by one, while this old steel and hardwood relic had kept firing.

She wouldn't though. Since now, the only thing of the weapon she really cared about is how it could still punch two inches of full metal jacketed iron clean thorugh the tiny reptilian brains of the degenerates living in the hills near her cabin. Godless people, people lost in a world that no longer had the answers, the reassurances or the capacity to care for them any longer. People crushed under the weight of their own helplesness, cursing themselves and the world under their breaths until their rage and helplesness drove them mad, turning them into crazed babbling animals that lashed in fury at anything living and took what they wanted if no one stopped just to sate their appetites, be it of their bodies or of their more dark, libidinous and violent inner selves.

She heard something outside. Usually, the degenerates won't come near her. They had, at first, lusting for her- a desire for violence and release so palpable she would have felt it even if her years of training hadn't warned her of their presence. Nowadays they usually knew better, but there was always some of them reckless enough to think he could best her, or sometimes crazed enough by lust, hunger or both to try that hand at confronting her and the rifle. A faint smell of decay in the air gave credit to how many would not have a chance to ever know better again.

With a fluid motion, she grabbed the rifle and kicked the door of the cabin open. A form between the trees to her left immediately caught her attention. Mechanically, he raised the rifle to her shoulder, trailed it and dully registered the lithe frame, the tangle of unwashed hair and the eyes , full of surprise and...

fear?

Something wasn´t right. The degenerates never showed fear. They were past fear. They were past caring for their life, soul or anything else. Even as she had stood over a wounded one and deliberately pulled her side pistol to off him for good, their eyes had only been vacant pools of nothingness. Those eyes were alive. Alive with feelings she believe had vanished from the world long ago.

With a quick twist of the shoulder, he pointed the barrel away from the form. Used as it had been to fire first and ask later, to cold-blooded killing and automatic defensive responses, her finger was already squeezing the trigger when she began to move...

The shot cracked with an impossibly sharp sound, rolling over the hills like thunder. Mere inches away from the head of the other figure, a tree bark exploded in a shower of splintered wood. Her voice rang, then, cold and matter-of-factly.

Whoever you are, if you understand what I'm saying, put your arms behind your head and stand still. Next time, I won´t miss.

[Rissa]

Jade was lost in the forest during a huge war when she stumbled upon a home. Well, more like a shack. She stepped on a stick and it snapped. Suddenly she noticed the door of the shack get kicked open and a woman step out with a huge gun. She darted behind a tree and hid, but the woman shot and it hit the bark of the tree hiding her. Jade was just a child, so when the gun went off, she squealed... or more like screamed in surprise. She had been running from the village, having stolen some food and been caught. Jade was an orphan, nearly 7 years old. She had been living on her own for almost a year now; but it was hard. She had to steal to stay alive, and the last town left her out of energy and hope. Shaking violently, she stepped out from behind the tree, revealing she was only a child. "I-I... O-only wanted t-to h-hide..." She said meekly, pulling her pockets out, revealing she had no weapons.

A few rolls fell from her pockets. She froze, sensing a few villagers from the village she had stolen from approaching from behind. Quickly forgetting her fear of this woman, she darted up to her and hid behind her as the villagers came into view. "Hand the brat over." One of the men growled. "She's stolen from our village for the last time."

Jade looked up at the woman in horror, praying that the woman wouldn't give her to the man, whom she knew was a violent drunk and had a knife in his pocket at all times. "P-please d-don't let h-him t-take me... H-he has a k-knife.."


The man huffed and pulled the knife from his pocket. Jade squeaked and pulled further behind the woman, hugging onto her leg in reflex of fear. The man threw the knife, causing it to hit the wall right by Jade's head. "I'll have better aim next time." The man growled, turning and leaving with the other villagers. He stopped and shook his fist at Jade, yelling: "Just keep the rotten brat away from our village!"

Then as they disappeared, Jade suddenly remembered the woman had a gun and was a threat. She squeaked and released the woman's leg, backing away from her. "S-sorry..." She said meekly. "H-he s-scares me..."

Jade looked down at the ground, worried and wondering what this woman was going to say about what had just happened. Shaking slightly, Jade looked up and watched the woman's expression to see if it would change.


{{Beautiful post. I LOVE her! <3}}

[Leonid]

The woman had watched the scene unfold with a slight frown the only sign of surprise she'd allow herself. The intruder was but a child, and a very young one. She had seen some children around the place, usually older, around their early teens. Ragged, wiry things, with shifting eyes and nimble feet, who usually survived by hiding and picking berries or small animals. Or sometimes the carcasess of dead ones. Or, in some cases, stealing. She'd known o couple of them that tried.

She had made sure they'd be very sorry for themselves, but nothing else. She was still a soldier. Bitter, disenchanted, rough and brutal, just the way you had to be on this times, but still a soldier. She kept telling herself that, though it hardly mattered any longer, because it still gave her something- a moral, a belief to cling to. Something that made her different from the people on the hills.

As the voices approached, she quickly linked two and two, and knew how this little helpless thing had survived up until her. A thief. And those probably were the persons she'd stolen from. The terror in the eyes of the child as she darted behind her confirmed her suspicions.

And then, they were upon them. Not degenerates, thank God for the little things. But from their ragged looks and their squinty, brutal eyes, she could tell they were only a bit better than them. If she gave them a copule of years, or a bad harvest, or a natural accident, maybe next time she'd have to shoot them on sight. As for now, she merely tilted the rifle so that she could trail and fire in a second.

Although she registered he child's pleas, she didn´t said or do anything. She was intently looking at the man, scanning the parts of the body- hip, shoulders, elbows, knees that would tell her beforehand is she was about to try something. She kept doing it as the man demanded her to handle the child. She didn´t need to answer that. This was a lynch mob, reasoning would only be a waste of spit and a distraction. The only argument they'd understand was fear, of her and the gun, and that'd be the only one she'd give them, if needs be.

Then the knife whizzed past her, and she heard the threat. She had seen it won´t hit them, from the angle of his shoulder, but she'd also seen that he knew how to use them. Time to crank things up a notch before those bumpkins caught the courage to do something stupid. Fast as lightning, the woman aimed the gun and shot again. The bullet hit the ground square between the man's legs, kicking up a cloud of dirt that hit the man's crotch.

Next time, I'll aim about three feet higher up. And believe me, I'll hit before you've even gotten your knife out.

The man looked down at the dirt stain on his trousers, and quickly made a mental calculation of where the bullet would hit. He ground his teeth and looked at the pair with hatred in his eyes. But she also saw what she wanted- fear. No one would be getting sweet ideas about trying to rush her finding safety in numbers to get the child, and who knows if something else. For all their rough exterior, deep inside they were made of soft stuff. They didn´t have the balls to put their lives on the line, even for revenge. She felt them deflate like a balloon and leave. She knew she had made a new enemy, but she didn´t particularly care.

She'd stop keeping count of the enemies, just like she had of so many things.

The yelp of the child lifted her from her musings, ans she stopped to take a good hard look at her. She was shaking like a leaf, and her eyes could barely keep focused on meeting the woman's gaze. It was plain to see that she was as terrfied of her as of the villagers.

Don't worry, he won´t be back. I know his ilk, he only fights when he expects no resistance. Now that he knows what's on store here, he won´t dare coming. He doesn´t have the balls. And if he does...- the woman shrugged. Then I'll make damn sure that he literally won´t have the balls, ever again.

The child seemed even more terrified at this. She wasn't made for this kind of world. She was too little, too scared, too desperate to cling to something... or someone. And she sure didn´t want to be that someone. She had enough to worry about as it was.
But then, what? Let her pick her stolen food up and venture into the hills? It was the only way left for her now, and the degenerates would get to her in no time. She hadn´t learned to properly hide herself. And what would that lot do with this doe-eyed, scared child, was something even she didn´t want to consider. In spite of herself, she softened her expression. Her eyes were still cold and calculating but, relieved from the tension of the moment and of her own gloomy thoughts, was not altogether unpleasant to look at.

You should get going, but night is almost falling, and at night it's when the degenerates are more active in the mountains. You don´t want to go there, or those men after you would look like a Girl Scout party. Believe me.

The woman turned and headed for the shack. Come. You can crash at my place for the night. We'll see what we do tomorrow.

[Rissa]

Jade watched with wide eyes as the woman's gun aimed at the man. This woman was... protecting her? She hid her face when the gun went off, but when she looked up, the man wasn't dead. He was disappearing over the hills, grumbling about something. Jade could only guess what he was grumbling about. HER. The man had it out for Jade since she ran to the village. She was sure something bad was going to happen, whether by this woman or by the man. Jade looked up at the woman, seeing a little softness in her expression. It wasn't a lot, but any kindness was welcomed with open arms by Jade. Jade shook, but attempted a smile, which just twisted into a nervous look. "T-thank you..." Jade said meekly as the woman said she could stay with her. "I-I don't really h-have anywhere else to go..." Jade's tone then went quiet. "Being an orphan... Everyone hates me..."

Jade's sadness masked her fear for a moment as she started to tear up over thoughts of her mother. What would her mother think of Jade stealing to stay alive? Jade knew her mother would have smacked the stealing right out of her, before forcing Jade to return the stolen goods. Jade's mother died in the war, however, forcing Jade to fend for herself and go back to stealing to stay alive. Although stealing probably wasn't the best way to STAY alive.

[Leonid]

The woman stopped at the child´s words and looked at her with a slightly tilted head, as if looking for something. Her eyes were cold uninterested, but beneath them there was something, a certain intensity, a certain hint of intent or determination. Still, she stood for a while there, staring at the girl nd looking as though she was trying to figure out something.

She was young, or at least the slight oval of her face implied it. For someone who lived out in the open, her skin was fairly light, with barely a hint of light tan on it. Her body was tall, for a woman, and it had a compact and wiry look to it, with taut skin, firm hips and broad shoulders. It was obvious she had done a great deal of excercise in her time, though she looked more resilient and durable than actually strong.

Her features had initially been smooth, but the slight wrinkles around her eyes and the the corner of her mouth suggested that she was quite accustomed to frown, grind her teeth or show a disaprobatory expression. The line of the jaw under the skin was also harsh and pronounced, which gave her face a stern and gloomy air, even though the high cheekbones and almost translucent blue eyes would have probably made her quite nice to look at, if she´d bothered to draw attention to them.

Which clearly, she hadn´t. His long auburn hair was tied ad the back with a simple ponytail, drawn so tautly that it was a wonder it didn´t hurt, and a fine layer of dirt and grime covered most of her exposed skin.

I know you don´t have anywhere else to go. None of us has- she said, with a dispassionate voice that, however, belied something black and boiling under it, maybe anger, despair, sorrow... or all of it together. This is pretty much end of the line. There´s more to the world than those hills, but forget it. You´ll never make it out of them alive, and I much doubt the rest of it is better off than here. That´s why I´m allowing you to catch your breath here.

The woman turned the handle on the metal door of the makeshift cabin. Rusted shut at it was, it didn´t budge until she took a step back and kicked ih hard over the lock, with practiced ease. Once it had opened, she stood and waited for the child to join her, studying her.

You know, if you weren´t an orphan, they wouldn´t like you any better. No one likes anyone any longer. Liking was for the happier times, when we were idle and could afford luxuries like having feelings or having an oppinion. Now it´s every man for himself. People like those ones before- she added, spitting in the ground- may make-believe otherwise, but in the end, you´re on your own. They don´t dislike orphans more than they dislike black people, dwarfs of proctologists. They merely dislike competence.

Seeing the lack on comprehension in the eyes of the child, the woman sighed. Forget about it. I don´t get many visitors. I talk too much, and not all makes sense. Come. If we´re going to fetch and heat water to get all that grime out of you and me, we´de better begin now. My name is Natacha, by the way. Feel free to use it, or not. I´m not keeping notes.

[Rissa]

Jade listened to the woman, but all she heard was she was 'on her own'. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she looked away to hide it. This woman obviously didn't want anything to do with her. When the woman said her name was Natacha, Jade looked at her for a moment. "I-I'm Jade.." Jade said, a slight tinge of sadness in her tone as she tended to attach to people quickly, and this woman reminded her so much of her mommy. Jade frowned, still shaking a bit.

Jade wrapped her hands around herself for comfort, trying not to cry, since this woman probably wouldn't care even if she did. This obviously wasn't a place she was going to feel welcome. It didn't matter... Jade wouldn't live much longer anyway. She was secretly very sick and this woman would most likely put her out to fend for herself the next morning.

Jade had a high fever, and getting wet would put her in worse shape. Suddenly Jade started wobbling back and forth, before falling to her hands and knees, coughing violently. She had been sick for a long time now, and if she wasn't tended to and cared for, she'd soon die. Not that it mattered... Time wasn't on Jade's side. Jade coughed up a little blood, shivering violently. She kept her eyes on the floor, noticing the blood she wiped it up with her sleeve, not wanting the woman to be upset she messed up the floor with blood. "I-I'm sorry..." She choked, coughing again. "I-it's not c-contagious... It's j-just my--"

Jade passed out before she could finish her sentence. She was going to say 'demon'. because after her mother died, her father, who was a bad, bad man cursed her with a demon because he blamed her for his wife's death, even though it was him who killed her. The demon had a condition, though. If Jade could find someone who truly cared for her and loved her, it would be lifted. The demon didn't only make Jade sick constantly though... It made her snap and curse, getting her into trouble and then leaving her to blame.




{{YAAAY! You posted! <3

THANK YOU! ^__^

&& Jade's not going to be left alone again, right? I had an idea about having Jade mention in her sleep about an inn hidden somewhere where she could live, and then they could go find it.. That is, if Natacha even keeps Jade with her. Neat idea about the demon, right? Hope it's okay. I'll edit it out if you don't like that idea. xP}}

[Leonid]

Natacha hadn't seemed to notice much of what was going on. Once she'd been again on the cabin, she merely set the rifle against the wall. She quickly surveyed the lines of crystal jars along the north wall and quickly took out two of them. One had a slab of wiry, red meat floating in a clear liquid, the other one several slices of what, from the color, looked like fruit that had seen better days. She turned to look at the girl- she didn't need to ask if she was hungry, she'd seen it in her eyes, and noticed something.

The girls had collapsed into all fours, and the coughs made a dry, rattling sound as the air went from her lungs and past her throat. She'd seen enough damaged lungs in her time, punctured by bullets or collapsed by gas, to know what went next. She didn't seem surprised at all when the blood came.

She'd seen plenty of that, too. She'd shed a lot herself, and yet, none seemed to her as crimson and throbbing, as red ant tantalizing, as the stain now becoming a dab, rusty brown on the gound. Like a rose blooming for a second and then wilting.

She had seen roses, too. Maybe, even someone would have given her a present of ones, when she had been not that much older than the child, who now seemed to fall in slow motion to the ground and lay still.

How long had it been?

Natacha pondered over the unconscious body of the child for a long moment. The reasonable thing, the practical thing, the thing any survivor would do, was to put her out on the hills and let the weather, the animals or the degenerates usher them out of her sleep into a painless, lonely death. She had said what she had wasn't contagious, but how could she trust her to even know?

Just another death. How much could it matter? How many had she killed, anyways? Either in her days as a soldier, or in here. It wasn't a meagre sum. How much would another one matter?

With a sigh, she bent over, turned Jade around and felt her forehead. It was hot. Very hot, and soaked in perspiration. With precise motions, she peeled the clothes off the child and quickly scurried though the ground towards a small chest, which he opened. It seemed like a medical supplies stash of some sort. Ruffling between gauzes, bandage rolls, syringes and vials with a clear, transparent liquid, he finally produced a small tin can. As she opened it, the dense, sticky white substance inside let out a pungent smell of antyspetic hit her and seemed to leave a tingling sensation all over the inside of her nose.

During the next minutes, the woman vigorously rubbed the child's body with the substance, stroking and kneading the muscles as if she were baking bread, with rough but calculated, precise movements. By the time she'd finished, beads of sweat were forming over Jade's body. Quickly scooping her in one gracile motion, the woman carried her as though she weighed nothing and laid her over the mattress, putting the bedcover over her. After that, she threw her winter jacket on top, along with a length of camping tent fabric she quickly picked up.

Within minutes, the girl would be sweating like she'd never sweated in her life, but that was the point. It would wipe away the remnants of the fever and, her being unconscious, she woudl be spared most of the incommodity. For now, she only needed to let her rest... and prepared for when she woke up. Setting up the medical supplies chest near her, Natacha sat up next to the sleepong, feverish child, and waited for her to get better. Or die.

Either way, it would be a difficult time.

(Natacha will originally not want to keep Jade with her... but will find she's not willing to let her got either. I have no compulsion against demons, so long as they don't do weird stuff.)

[Rissa]

Jade was unaware of what was going on since she had shifted from unconsciousness to sleep, but started to move and shake in her sleep, having a vivid nightmare about the memory of losing her mother. It seemed like only yesterday Jade's father betrayed their village and killed her mother in front of Jade, who was hiding under the bed, unable to do anything. Tears fell down Jade's face in her sleep as she was seeing the horrible image of her father, who hated Jade and was a paranoid psychopath who thought Jade's mother was cheating on him, killing her mother in the most unimaginably gruesome manner.

After Jade's father injured Jade's mother severely and left her to die, Jade bolted out from under the bed, crying and promising her mommy it would be okay. Jade's mother looked at her, putting her hand on Jade's cheek and smiling. 'Be strong, my beautiful daughter...' She whispered, before dying completely. Jade stayed and cried by her mommy for hours, but eventually had to leave her there. Heartbroken and alone, Jade wandered the land for almost a year, barely surviving through the days and nights. Suddenly Jade woke in a panic and sat up, breathing heavily. It was obvious the poor child was scarred by something by the look of complete panic and fear on her face. She soon realized it was just another dream about her mommy's death. Pulling her knees to her chest, Jade buried her face in her arms, shaking slightly. She didn't even notice she was sweating intensely. Because of her nightmares, Jade sweated like this often. Jade looked up from her arms and at the woman, suddenly noticing that she was sitting next to her. "T-thank you.." Jade said sadly, burying her face back in her hands.


{{I figured. xP

And the only weird stuff the demon does is make Jade sick and sometimes (Not often) take over her and get her into trouble, before leaving her to blame. If either of those things are too weird, I'll edit out the demon. It wouldn't happen often, though. And sorry these replies are short. Sometimes it's hard to reply to long replies for me. ^^;;

I feel so weird.. I started crying when I wrote this post. Sad story in Jade's past. T__T}}

[Leonid]

Stand still- was the only greeting Natacha offered to the sleeping child. Quickly dabbin a cloth in alcohol, she started rubbing the girl from head to toe, beginning with her nape and shoulders. This is somewhat the same that native Americans did for high fever. They´d locke someone in a hut where a fire had been kept burning for some time, and they the´d dip him in a river. We can´t afford to make a fire, and we don´t have a river, but we can make do with what we have at hand.

For some time, the slow, deliberate rhythm of cloth rubbing over flesh could be heard, as the woman laboured over the child´s form without another word. She could clearly see she was in great distress, but one still needed to keep priorities straight. Getting rid of the fever was the priority now. Grief would not do that for her, neither will comfort make her any less of a threat to her own health, or less vulnerable due to exhaustion and sickness.

Priorities. All was about having th right kind of them. Straight priorities meant sharp judgement. Sharp judgement meant life. A cold, merciless, strife-ridden life, one battle after another after another one, until you ran out of luck. But then again, was there any other life to be had in this time and age?.

After she was done, she spoke again. Keep like that. You´ll feel cold, but that will do you good. It will force your defences to be more active. To fight harder. A lesson you should learn, because things are not going to get any easier. You can only live for so much time on stealing. Either your luck or the supplies will eventually run out. And before you start getting funny ideas, don´t even try taking anything from here without my permission, or you´ll be as sorry as you´ve never been.

So, since we´ll probably be stuck here for the night, with me taking watch, you might as well get to pass some time. What about you begin by explaining me who you are and how did you come to be here this fine afternoon, with a buch of murderous rednecks on your tail?

[Rissa]

Jade watched as the woman rubbed her down with some sort of substance Jade couldn't make out. Not wanting the woman to be angry, Jade stayed still, not saying a word or complaint, despite the coldness the substance caused her. Looking confused when the woman explained something about native Americans, Jade nodded when told to stay still.

Jade's eyes widened when the woman said she could only live so long on stealing. How'd she know that's how Jade was surviving? Taking in the threat to not steal from this woman, Jade nodded. Jade wasn't that big of an idiot. She was tricky, but wasn't about to steal from someone with an automatic rifle, who could kill her in half a second.

Jade wasn't sure if the woman meant she would kill her, but better safe than 'sorry as she's ever been'. Jade looked a bit sad when the woman asked for her to explain who she was and how she got chased by the villagers. She sighed, wondering if the woman would kill her anyway once she found out who Jade was. She secretly was the daughter of the man who started the war, but she hated her father for killing her mother, and would never forgive him for doing so. Jade started to explain who she was, obviously leaving out a few details on her past. "U-um..." She began to speak, the stammering a dead give-away she was hiding something. Two things, counting the demon she nearly told this woman about.

"W-well... I'm Jade and ..." Jade began to pause. "T-the v-village was after m-me because ... I ...Had..." She stopped, mumbling that she had taken from them to eat. Jade then remembered she still had some food. She knelt down to her overalls and pulled a bag of food out. "O-obviously I took this from them... B-but I promise I won't take from you..." She sighed, looking up at the woman and waiting for an expression change. "Do you want to share?" She asked meekly.

Jade remembered when she stole to keep her mother alive before her father killed her mother, her mother would force Jade to return the things she'd stolen and then spank the daylights out of her. Jade was just hoping this woman wouldn't do the same. Waiting for an answer before eating anything, Jade looked down.