thisavrou_log | [Open!]

[Niko hasn't drank but once since what happened with the planet, and he's guessing it's fine for another.]

[This used to be his job, and he is glad he left. He couldn't have dealt with being around drinking all the time, around alcohol. But sometimes? Hopefully in good humor to distract from upsetting things? He'll take that. That way he still feels sort of removed from his father and capable of enjoying himself.]

[Except he doesn't have anyone to drink with, which is what he prefers. So he ends up settling down in front of her at the bar alone.]

Do you still have some vodka?

[Her smile becomes a great deal more authentic and she laughed.] It's one of the few things that ain't frozen!

[Reaching behind the bar, she grabbed a bottle off the shelf and poured him three fingers worth.]

Here ya go! Don't think I've seen you around here before; Jacky Faber, at your service.

Niko Bellic. And thanks.

[He takes the glass and winces down a good swallow of it.] I never thought I would have to worry about bad weather for drinking while indoors. This temperature is fucked up.

[Jacky snorted.] Tell me about it. I thought one of the perks of being in this queer enclosed ship was that I'd never have to chip ice out of my morning wash bowl ever again. But then again, I don't have to deal with ice on the lines, so it's all relative, innit?

[She left the bottle on the bar; no point in putting it away any time soon.] I take it indoor snow isn't common where your from either, then?

Not unless the roof has been bombed off. I am from the Balkans.

[He honestly pauses over the word queer, though, since English isn't his native language and he thought that meant gay from how he's always heard it used..]

[Oh well. Stupid language and it's stupid words. The problems that come with not having a book education, but rather from having learned via two busty English girls his cousin wanted to flirt with.]

There is something very wrong happening here. But is not like I can do anything about it, so- [he gestures toward the glass.]

Oh? Where's that? [She's fair certain it's a mountain range somewhere, but not certain enough.]

[Reaching over, she topped off his glass.] Aye, I know how you feel. M'mate Ratchet, one of the first times we were on shift together had to walk me through some comet nonsense. Me, a sailor for near half me life! And I'm near useless on this ship.

[She smiled, though.] I'm just trying to remind myself, no knowledge is wasted and no job too small too do.

Eastern Europe. [Once and again, the place made him a little homesick. Ruined by the weather and war now, but he misses it.]

You are a sailor too, ah? I was in the merchant navy. [And worked as a smuggler.] Not for half my life, I have been a soldier for that. But I know my way around a boat.

The rooms here are fancier. The water can still get rough, I guess.

[She laughed, long and hard.] It does at that!

I don't think I've ever been there; the furthest East I ever got in Europe was Spain. Been to India and Rangoon, though! Maybe when I get back, I think I might visit. Been over a year since I been somewhere new.

Aye, I joined His Royal Majesty's Service when I were but 13 as a mere ship's boy. Been a merchant, too; you're looking at the President and Owner of Faber Shipping, Worldwide! [She is incredibly proud that her company exists and provides for so many.]

Been a soldier, too, but I must say, I am tired of the fighting and the killing. Honestly, I'm more the peaceful sort of coward, and wars are...

[She trailed off, lips pressed together tightly. She's fought in so many wars.]

[He definitely feels some empathy there. His entire childhood was the war, and he knows that, in its own way, it broke him.]

My cousin owns a business called Bellic Enterprises. A cab company. I worked for it a little. [Before the CDC "recruited" him.] I told my cousin once, that war was where the young and stupid are tricked by the old and bitter into killing each other. [And Niko had been very young at the time. Maybe never got much smarter, considering the men he ended up working for.]

Asshole fell asleep in the middle of me talking to him.

[Jacky laughed, a tad bitter but mostly just sad.]

I had two boys under my command once. Midshipmen. I called them my Knights Errants. I had to tell them something similar when I came aboard. I don't think they listened to me, either. [Truth told, she didn't know if they'd really learned it until it was too late, poor Tom Wheeler the only one to make it out as the ship sunk beneath them.]

I find that most men, be they boys or full grown, don't truly understand battle unless they've experienced it. It's not glorious, or honourable--it's pain and fear and people you know dying.

Oh, he knew war. Not fighting in it, but what it felt like to be afraid. When it was our houses burning or worried for bombs and mines. He is pacifist, a good person, so he left to go be in America and make a good life for himself.

[Niko had thought he had failed. When he looks back now, he realizes that Roman had gotten everything he wanted, had successfully worked his way up to some success despite his bad habits. It's too bad he can never tell him that, not planning to go back.]

But no. There is no glory or honor. And mine was civil war. So no winners.

[America, land of opportunities. She should know: it has succoured her through some of the very worst times, and is the base of her current operations. She's glad to hear that it is the same in the future.]

I'm sorry, I can't even imagine. It was hard enough to fight knowing that those I were fighting were people just like me, someone's son or husband or brother, who just happened to be born on a different scrap of land than I were. I can't imagine fighting against people from my own country. Not in a war, that is.

[And judging by the rising tensions between her two homes, she doesn't know what she was going to do if England and America declared war upon each other again. England still holds claim to her, but fighting against the Americans? Fighting against Randall, or any of the men she met and played with in Boston?

Grabbing her opened and mostly frozen bottle of wine, she took a quick slug of the snowy liquid and topped off her patron's drink.]

It was an old war, built from old grudges.

[But, then as part of an explanation (since looking it from the outside always seems to help detach him from the experience), he decides to check when, or where, she's from.]

Have you heard of a guy named "Hitler" and of World War II?

[She narrowed her eyes, quickly racking through her dramatis personae.] No, but it's been a few years since I had to know Prussians. [Not since Jena, in any case.]

What's 'World War II'? The war right now, in my time, is between France and England. More specifically, I guess you could say it's between the King and l'Empereur. It's being fought throughout the colonies, but I'm not sure I'd call it a world war. [She was struck by a horrible thought.] Unless America gets dragged into it. That would be a horrible mess.

That is far before my time. [He doesn't know that much about the history of other countries, only sparse recent events and general facts. But he knows that of his own. Better than someone who isn't formally educated normally would.]

There was a very bad war, started by a madman in Germany who convinced people in Germany that Jews were dangerous and deserved terrible death. They were put in concentration camps, murdered by thousands.

But in my country, there is a group that made a deal with this Hitler. They work for him, and they help control undesirable people of Slavic countries. They were Ustashe, and the Ustashe believed Croats were superior. They rounded up Roma and Serbs, put Roma into work camps, and Serbs? They do things like tie them back to back, cut open their bellies with "serb-cutters" and throw them in the river alive.

The man who ended Hitler's work in our country, united us, drove out the Ustashe? He was Croat and Bosniak. Not a Serb. And he made us tolerate each other but did not give Serbs exception to recover. Our grandfathers and their children learned to hate these people for what they did, and what they cost us. Only for the work of this leader did we not go to war.

Then he died. And he left no one to keep the peace.

One people started killing the other and the other killed back. My people started fighting, but my family did not. When people came to our village to get rid of us because we were the enemy, they only made enemies. I was very young at the time. Twelve or thirteen. But I fought like I needed to.

Edited 2016-01-03 22:36 (UTC)

[Jacky is horrified. Completely, and utterly horrified. She has seen some awful things in her time, and her mind can all too easily picture some of the awful things Mister Bellic is describing. Her mind flashed on Master Goya's paintings, hidden away from the priests that would burn him for having them, of the tales of her majos amigos had told her of the bloody and violent acts of the French in Spain. The atrocities of war truly knew no bounds; the things men did to hold power were absolutely sickening.]

Jesus. [Placing her head in her hands, she hunched forward, shoulders shaking.] Jesus.

[Raising her head, she looked at him with pained eyes.] I am so, so sorry. I cannot even--

I have known death from an early age, but not like this. Lord, not like this.

[She honestly looks at it with more compassion than he expected- he's always removed himself so far from the situation, stared at it from the outside, that it's difficult to reattach emotion to it. It's how he's had to deal with what happened at Macha, too.]

[Because when his head is back inside of it, when it's real and all around him, even in his past, he doesn't ever want to live through that again.]

Hey, is okay. I helped my mother and my cousin. This shitty war? Our country might be ruined but my mother and cousin have chance to build something good.

[Niko... not really as much. He just sort of trudges forward through life. Even when people care.]

[Jacky had to struggle to keep her composure. The Black Cloud had been low and thick since Cadacas Primacy, and the lack of sleep wasn't helping much, either. Right now, all she could see was blood on a deck, smell the gunpowder from the canons. But she took her cue from Niko's calm composure, folded herself back inside and snuffled back her tears.]

I am glad your mother and cousin are alright, that the three of you got out. Sometimes, sometimes all you can do is keep your people safe.

My mother did not technically get out. She lives somewhere new, but back home. She did not wish to leave the Balkans.

Roman told me to move her, but America is kind of shit in my time.

[It had been for a while.]

[Jacky's not too surprised to hear that America wasn't great; Miles had told her that the country was completely obliterated in his time.]

Oh. But, she's safe, now?

What about your family? You sound to be from tough time. Do you have anyone out there doing pretty good? Very good friends?

[He gestures at her loosely before finishing off his vodka.]

[Huddling in on herself, Jacky let the focus shift from him to her.]

Ah, not so tough right now. Me grandad's all I have left of me blood family--me mom, dad, and baby sis died from the plague when I was eight or so, and I was tossed out onto the streets where I stayed until I managed to join up. [She waved a hand. Old news, that.] I've found myself blessed with quite a few friends now, though, many of whom are in me employ, including a few from me old gang. I have a boy I was to marry before I found meself here, and I've a little boy who's my son in all but blood.

[She smiled, sad but true.] My fortunes may wax and they may wane, but I consider myself fortunate that my friends are always there for me. [A beat.] And that neither the Admiralty nor the Government of the United States are calling for my head any more. [She shot Niko a wry look.] There's only so many times the Faber neck can be stretched!

[He's genuinely sorry for his siblings- his own brother's death still quietly haunts him. Roman doesn't speak of it, though, so Niko has chosen not to, either. But since he already dragged them out of the emotional pit, he chooses not to pull them back into it.]

Hey, at least here if someone hangs you? You can send them rude pictures after, ah?

[That doesn't mean he won't have a morbid sense of humor.]

[Her eyes widened. She hadn't thought of that.]

Cor, y'know, ye might be on to something there! B'fore, I couldn't really take revenge, could I? I mean, I could, but seeing as I got out of being framed for treason, it would be right stupid committing actual treason just out of something silly like revenge. [Not to say she hadn't strongly considered it until Higgins talked her out of it.]

Hells, even these cuffs are right fascinating! Takes me hours to whip out a painting, and this blasted thing can take one in seconds! [She shook her wrist in emphasis. Yes, lets talk about all this blasted fancy tech instead of emotional traps. She's got an image to upkeep, after all.]

Do not tell anyone, but this technology always trips me up. I learn enough to drive and that is basically it. I have no excuse. I lived a simple life until I was a teenager, but after that I am to be part of the modern world?

I've never been too good at it.

[And he doesn't have the excuse of being from her time period.]

Yes, revenge rarely helps. It doesn't make you safe later. Sometimes it makes you feel empty.

Sometimes it feels good just to shut some asshole the hell up. More vodka, please.

Sure thing, mate.

[Grabbing the vodka, she gave him a generous refill as she thought over his words. And laughed.] Amen to that! Once, after two Red Coat Agents caught me, me crew dropped them into the snake pit on our boat; after I got free, I made the two louts 'walk the plank', as it were. They were completely safe, but the humiliation I put them through made it easier to sleep that night. ...Though, that did wind up biting me in the ass, so, you know, you're right on all counts.

Drive what? A cart? [She wasn't sure what that had to do with technology...]

Better than a cart. [He waits for the glass to be refilled before he lifts it.]

Maybe one day I'll show you. Machines that go so fast, you feel yourself pushed back into the seat. Ones that fly through the air, through space, as dangerous as they are useful and somehow that makes them feel even better.

[He misses it so much, the driving. Rushing from place to place.]

...That sounds so amazing. Do they go faster than horses, then? I imagine they must, if you say it's better than a cart. [Jacky's an adrenaline junky, no doubt about it; she ever gets in a car with a competent driver behind the wheel? She's gonna lose her goddamn mind.] If we find something like that, please do. Sounds a right treat.

Let it never be said that I cannot show a girl a good time. One day, I'll take you for a ride.

[And he's not exactly what one would call a competent driver, just a skillful and slightly deranged one. A competent one would get thrown from their car less after purposeful wrecks.]

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cw: horrible gross world war ii things

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