apocalypsehowcomm | Log - OTA! - What’s the difference between a corpse and a shirt?

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Log - OTA! - What’s the difference between a corpse and a shirt?

Who: Everyone.
When: Wednesday evening, Jan 11th
Where: A rented out bar, downtown.
Summary: The wake for George Milton.
Warnings: N/A (will update as needed)

If anyone of the forcibly kidnapped to Gloucester deserved to be remembered, it was George Milton. In many ways, he was the best of them. He had been kind. He had always been willing to help and lend a hand. Unlike some whose first choice was violence (because what else was there), he had chosen to forgo that route and had come up with a much more clever solution. The solution saved lives.

It had not felt right to have a formal service for him. To put it simply, he was not a formal person. And so after much calling around, a bar had been found where they could rent out the entire place before business got too busy. It was just for a couple of hours. People could come and say nice things about George. It's what he deserved after all.

So come on in, have a beer or two, and sit a spell. Maybe you'll feel like sharing a story about George or maybe you're just there to pay your respects. There's a break in the weather, the clouds only filling up half of the nighttime sky. No acid snow for tonight.

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Hickey's another one who spends time away from everybody, to give them their distance. Because he's got no clue what the fuck to do with this. He's got no clue how to act on things like this. He knows what everyone expects him to do and he just...can't.

So he spends time outside, away from everybody, letting the chill of the evening calm him. When he spots Jaeger, he gives him a little nod. "Got a match?" he asks, as he reaches for his cigarettes.

Jaeger appreciates the open air and space, but he's not opposed to company and the other man gets a polite nod of acknowledgement in return. Someone he may have seen at orientation, a new face he's never spoken with but at least recognizes as one of theirs.

Jaeger used to be better at this, he swears.

At the request, he reaches into his overcoat pocket and produces a lighter. He's not a smoker, but producing fire is handy at times.

"Sure." He flips it with big, scarred hands, offering it politely once Hickey has his cigarette situated. Then, by way of introduction: "Andrew Jaeger."

"Cornelius Hickey," he says, as he lights his cigarette. And Hickey gives Jaeger a steely stare that very handily implies 'so many people have given me shit about my name already, if you do so as well, I'm going to put out this cigarette on your hand.'

He lights the cigarette, takes a puff, then exhales it. There's a pause before Hickey grumbles, "Dunno why people make a big fuss about these things. The dead's dead. Just move on."

Jaeger just meets Hickey's gaze, steady and unconcerned. He's not going to throw stones about a man's name, especially as someone who doesn't even use his own born name. He tucks the lighter back into his pocket, then settles into something more relaxed but still watchful. This isn't a man who lets his guard down often.

"Sometimes, it's good to remember a friend, and share it with others. To see that other people miss them, too." He glances out into the distance, thinking. He's never been good at this part, either. A degree in psychology helps, but only so much.

"Death is harder for some people than others. Especially when it's violent and unexpected, a lot of them aren't used to it."

Hickey takes a drag on his cigarette, listening to Jaeger and giving him a little nod as he talks. Good to remember a friend? Sure, that kind of makes sense. But at the same time, it doesn't fucking matter. Remembering won't bring them back. Remembering won't change what happened. Just move on and keep going.

"This place is nothing but violent and unexpected," Hickey points out, with a little shake of his head. "If you've been here for a few months, you should get used to it. Adapt or don't."

"True." He's certainly not going to argue with Hickey on that point, though there's a note of regret in his tone. "It's an unpleasant reality of this place, especially for those used to safety and stability." Some of whom, he expects, won't be able to adapt and will continue to struggle. They might hide in support roles, try to avoid the worst, but this place is simply not that kind.

He looks at Hickey again, quietly appraising. "You sound like a man with a great deal of experience in that."

Hickey gives Jaegar a casual little shrug in return. "I'm a man who knows perfectly well that the only safety and stability you can have in the world is whatever you carve out for yourself. Nothing's a given in life, after all."

Jaeger nods quietly. It's a bit more cynical than even Jaeger usually tends to, but he can understand completely how some people feel that way.

He's been there himself.

"Especially here," he agrees ruefully. "There are some here that I've come to like and trust, at least. That makes it a bit easier, but nothing's certain." He pauses. "If it was, we wouldn't be here now."

At a funeral, for one of the most *peaceful* of all of them.

Hickey'll admit that much. After all, he's here. He's at the funeral. He doesn't know if he trusted George but he certainly liked the man. He exhales some cigarette smoke as he looks back at the building.

"I do wonder who's funeral is going to be next. We've had a lot of them recently."

It's entirely possible to like people without trusting them. Some people conflate the two, but Jaeger isn't one of them.

"Too many. Funerals, and disappearances. As much as I'd like to believe people are returned safely home..." He shrugs, then decides to continue...much as he's tempted to trail off.

"I'm not really optimistic on the chances. Though some have disappeared and then returned, that only muddies the possibilities further." With no cigarette to take up his attention, he simply stands steady, watchful eyes taking in the night between glances back at his current companion.

He's not going to even try and guess who might be next. It's grim enough as it is, and to be completely fair he would have to put himself in the pool.

Hickey also isn't optimistic at the chances. He lets out a little chuckle before shaking his head.

"I've heard people joke that when someone's vanished, they're spirited away to the ADI basements for experimentation. After a while, you start to wonder how much of a joke that really is."

"I don't know that they were joking at all," he says solemnly. "Some people sincerely believe that, especially since ADI has kept prisoners in the past. Those too dangerous to be let loose, but controllable enough to be studied."

His lips pinch: he's not sold on the idea, but he doesn't really like the idea of more avatars running free, either. People tend to die when that happens...if not sooner than later.

"I dont know that its the case for everyone who vanishes, mind you. But I think if we start to give in to our worst compulsions, it's definitely a possibility."

"Well, there's only one answer for that then. Give in to our worst compulsions where they can't find us."

There's a pause before Hickey gives Jaeger a smirk of a smile. "Joking, of course."

He really isn't.

It gets a small cough of laughter from Jaeger anyway- one of the benefits of having these little get-togethers somewhere away from the constant watchful eye of the ADI.

"Half in jest, all in seriousness, is that how the saying goes?" And Jaeger can't throw stones, not with the thrill of magic so close to the surface. The wild and pure joy of power, of satisfaction, of the Hunt.

He knows himself a little too well, but at least that helps keep him steady. Balanced. For now.

He lets his breath out in the chill air, that wry smile still on his face before it fades.

"For now, we have some of the same goals. That's something, at least. I did similar work for a very long time...as strange as it is, it's comfortable to me."

Strange as it is, that at least makes sense for Hickey. People like the familiar. He nods, taking another drag on his cigarette. It's burned close to the end at this point, but he's not going to waste what little he has left.

"I'll admit that there are aspects of this world still strange and unusual to me. Fortunately, I'm good at adapting to change."

"It would seem so," Jaeger observes thoughtfully, taking in the other man with a quiet, intent look.

"You've probably had more to adapt to here than most of us. The fact that you're getting by, that is pretty impressive all on its own."

He's not the type to offer false praise, simply observation.

Unfortunately for Jaeger, Hickey takes any hint of praise as actual praise. And Jaeger is instantly registered in his mind as someone who he wants to continue to impress.

"Course it's impressive," he grins. "Half of the people here already are used to things like electricity or running water. And here I am, getting used to what everybody thinks as commonplace."

There are worse things to base a relationship on, and if nothing else Jaeger is unflinchingly sincere. Respect? They seem to have the beginnings of it and Jaeger doesn't ask much more than that.

"Its a lot to asjust to, but there is a lot to be said for hot showers, easy travel, and light whenever you want it." Some developments are worth the growing pains. "So hopefully some of it is comfortable once you get used to it."

"Christ, you do not know how thankful I am for the hot showers," Hickey laughs. "I was a sailor before arriving here, y'know? Stuck on a ship with a hundred sweaty men, limited soap, no hot water...we tried our best but the place ended up smelling quite fresh."

Jaeger chuckles, soft and raspy. "I can only imagine. It's one luxury of our times that I'd have a very hard time giving up."

He considers the information he's been given, then. Life on the sea isn't something he'd choose for himself, but he knows that it's got a call nonetheless.

"Are there parts of it you do miss? We're close to the ocean, at least, but I don't know that's quite the same."

Are there parts of home he does miss. An interesting question. Sure he says that he doesn't miss home all the time, but for this one moment, he actually thinks it over. Hickey actually takes time to think about, pausing for a moment as he mulls it over.

"No," he answers. And it's an honest, truthful answer. He shakes his head slightly before continuing with, "No, I don't miss anything. Bugger home, bugger England, bugger all that. It's better for me here anyway."

Jaeger is happy to give the other man a moment, because it's a pretty heavy question. Had the sea been Hickey's passion, or just a job?

He isn't surprised by the response, and nods quietly as he listens.

"I miss a few things, people mostly. But even with the difficulties here, I've found good things, too. And I'm doing work I know and am good at."

Jaeger is a bad man who breaks things for good reasons. He's come to terms with that a long time ago.

Hickey can understand that. What matters is doing what you're best at. Keeping yourself going. Doing what suits you and what you're best at to keep surviving.

"As far as I'm concerned? I'm never leaving this place."

"If we're going to be here, it's good to make the most of it." He nods sagely. It may not be the easiest place, but they don't really seem to have much choice.

And at least it's good work. Though that's more applicable to Jaeger's martyr complex than most others.

"If there's anything I can do, let me know. It's been a year here for me now, I think I'm as settled as I'm going to be."

"Of course," Hickey says, with a little nod. "But I'm coming up on six months here. I think I'm settled as well."

Not entirely. He's still striving for more. He's still trying to push his own boundaries. But he can keep that to himself.

Log - OTA! - What’s the difference between a corpse and a shirt?

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