thisavrou_log | [Open!]

OOC Note: continued on from here

[When Eggsy came in, Jacky was in the middle of putting back one of the top-shelf liquors which, of course, went on the top shelf. Hopping down from her relatively precarious perch on the bar, she flashed him a grin.]

A pleasure to make your acquaintance, personal-like. Your Mister Hart's friend, yeah?

[Eggsy grins back at her, settling at the bar, good hand on top, the injured one in his lap.]

Nice to meet you, too. Yeah, m'Eggsy.

[Both brows arch up, and he can't help but feel comforted by her accent, similar to his own in a way.]

You know Harry?

Yeah, 'e's my room mate, though I must say we don't chat over much. Both kept running, yanno? He's a good sort, though; reminds me of a dear friend back home.

[Dragging the stool she purloined from the other side of the bar across from Eggsy, she collapsed in a huddle of coats. God's mangy teeth, but it was cold.] You want anything? On the house. I think I've something called an 'electric kettle' if you want a cuppa. [Her exploration of the bar's been somewhat half-assed.]

[He has no idea how he hasn't met Jacky yet, considering she's rooming with Harry, and he visits Harry a lot. Though it's usually when he can't sleep and they don't hang in the room much.]

Harry's the busy sort. Always doin' this and that.

[Eggsy shakes his head at first, then smiles at the second offer.]

Got regular tea or is it weird space tea?

That he is, and so'm I. Tell you the truth, I don't think I've seen him awake in near a fortnight.

[Laughing to herself, she slid back off the stool and started rooting around the mess that is the underside of the bar. She was fair certain she saw it under here somewhere...]

It smells alright, but it's in these queer little cotton pouches, so I can't quite swear to the provenance. [It's good to talk to someone who talks right.] Where're you from, Eggsy? London, right?

I ain't ever lived with him, but I'm surprised if you'd catch 'im around at all. He's probably bored here.

[Eggsy watches her go, trying to place her accent, wishing they'd met sooner.]

Ah, tea bags are okay. It's not as good as the loose stuff, but should be alright to drink. [He's British so he knows tea, but he's not had a lot of high end stuff, so tea is tea to him.] Yeah, London. That's right. Where you from?

[There's the bugger. Stretching an arm out, she managed to hook the handle with a reaching finger and scoot the thing over to where she could grasp it. With a flourish, she placed it on the bar and dusted off her hands. Hooking the thing up, she filled it with water and set it heating. As she looked for mugs and those 'tea bags', she continued talking over her shoulder.]

Well, a sufferance of free time's why I volunteered to work down here as well as my other duties. That, and Miles said I could play down here, and I've tonnes of practise playing and serving in bars.

[Mugs in hand, she turned back around and hopped onto her seat. Eyeing Eggsy, she figured he weren't the sort to judge, and decided to tell him the truth.] Same, actually. Lived under Blackfriar Bridge after me parents and me little sis died until events led to be joining up as a Ship's Boy in the Royal Navy. Nowadays, I operate mainly out of Boston, but London is still my first home.

[The last time Eggsy had spoken to Miles, he'd still been running the bar, but since he was the personnel officer, he supposed he'd switch that around to find the best people for each job.]

Sounds like ya know what you're doin'.

[Eggsy's face falls when she mentions losing her parents and little sister, and he takes his mug of tea if only to have something to do with his hands.]

M'sorry 'bout your family.

[He nods, though, cause she'd sounded like back home. Not quite the same as him, but the closest out of anyone here.]

How'd ya sneak in as a boy? A hat or somethin'? [Though he feels she'd need a lot more than a hat to make her look like a boy.]

I'd hope so! I been working a crowd since I were 13 or so--and at least here I don't have to watch for so many wandering hands, eh?

[She smiled softly, accepting his condolences.] Thank you. It's been long enough that I can't remember them so well, but I do still miss them. Sometimes, I wonder if they'd be proud of me, what kind of person Penny'd've grown up to be. That sort of thing.

[She paused, happy to change the subject. Sipping at her own tea, humming with delight as her cold insides warmed up.] Nah, not a hat. Me gang leader, Rooster Charlie, were killed and I took his clothes because he, sadly, didn't need them no more but I did. With my hair cut and not being old enough for any changes [she gestured to her chest] to give me away, I weren't much different than any other starved street rat. As for how I kept up the Deception, well, it were mainly luck and sheer cleverness that let me get away with it as long as I did.

Honestly, though, it ain't very hard. If people expect to only see a boy and not a girl, then that's what they see--I've fought in three separate armies that way.

[Placing her cup down, she crossed her arms on top the counter and leaned in.] How 'bout you? What's your story, Mister Eggsy?

[Thirteen was young to be working, but Eggsy wasn't one to judge. Never really knew what kind of life someone was living.]

I think they would've been, yeah? Cause you seem like you's a good person, that's gotta mean somethin'.

[He would have introduced Jacky to his sister, if she were here. He bets they would really like each other, too. The gang thing, though, Eggsy's a bit familiar with the dynamics of that, if not in exactly the same way.]

Don't really have much of one, yet. Sorta in the middle of writin' it. But, yeah, basically just a normal bloke. Used to live with my mum, sis, and my fuckin' loser of a step-dad. Then I got offered a job, by Harry, yeah? Changed everythin' for me. I owe him a lot.

[Smiling softly, she ducked her head, swallowing against the lump in her throat.] That's what my grandad said, when he found me. I try to believe it, but. Well. There's things I've done that I don't think they'd quite understand, yanno? But. Thank you.

[Her voice doesn't quite crack, but it's a close thing. Cor, she misses her friends, her Higgins and her little boy most of all at times like these. They both thought the world of her, even though she'd done so much wrong around them both.

She took a sip of her tea to clear her throat.] Aye, I hear that. I don't think any of our stories will be done until we're six feet down or given to the sea, and even then, who knows? We could be a part in someone else's story, even then. Everytime I think my story's done, that there can't possibly be something else that Amy can write about, some thing else happens. [Like getting pressganged onto a space ship in the future. 'Not even Amy's gonna believe this one.']

A good job, eh? So you're an apprentice tailor, then? Or are ye an errand boy, or some such? You musta done something to impress him, though, if he were willing to offer you a job.

Y'welcome.

[Eggsy grins, cause he does think fondly of Harry, though it's strange he's here, and he's still adjusting to the fact that when he's from, Harry is dead. He doesn't think the man has told anyone, and he doesn't think that he will.]

Yeah, somethin' like that. My dad worked with 'im before he died. Harry told my mum and me that he owed us a favor, and I was lookin' at eighteen months, so I called him.

[He shrugs, a sheepish look on his face.]

He said I had potential, gave me work. Told me he was proud of me. [Which simultaneously embarrassed him and made him want to puff up.] M'glad he's here.

[Jacky can't help her smile from growing wider as Eggsy enthused about his friend. He and Mr. Hart seemed to have a similar relationship that she herself had with much of her crew, and she was glad to hear it.]

You must be real good, then, if he's proud of you. I'm glad you've someone from back home, here. I imagine it's got to be a whole lot less strange, eh?

[She hadn't missed that somewhat oblique reference to serving time.] If ye don't mind me asking, what'cha do that almost got you sent away? Nick something?

[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.]

[He wasn't used to having a bartender, mostly because he just steals alcohol and takes it back to his room. Today though, he decided to actually hit the bar and see what's what. He'd wrapped up, at least, despite not really feeling the cold- he'd probably need to shed some of the layers when it came to actually getting tipsy but for now he's making pretend, trying to be like the rest of the crew as he pulls up a stool, glancing up at the stranger.]

Alright, mate? Wanna make me something bloody strong?

Sure thing!

[Grabbing a tall glass, she flipped through the little recipe book tucked behind the bar and mixed tequila, vodka, white rum, curaçao triple sec, gin, lemon juice, gomme syrup, and a dash of cola from the hose-thing.]

Here ya go! It's normally supposed to be iced, but I figured that it's too cold for that nonsense.

I'm Jacky, by the by. Anything else I can get'cha?

[He hadn't even expected a recipe book. He didn't really know if he was meant to taste the thing, he just takes the glass she'd offered him and decided it had an ample mix of liquor. He lifts the glass to his lips, knowing fine well the thing was probably meant to be sipped. Instead he pours the entire thing down his throat, chugging swiftly before slamming a hand on the bar with a hissing noise.]

Yep, that was strong. [He grins at her, it still wasn't quite the regular grin someone might give if they were used to social conventions, but it was the only grin the kid knew.] You can get me another one. I'll make your hard work worth it. [He nods his head swiftly.] Don't know if you were about, but our first planet we got to had some valuable material on it... I happen to know where an awful lot of the shit is. Don't trust it myself but it works bloody fine as currency.

[Jacky felt her eyebrows edge ever higher as the man knocked back the whole concoction in one go. Not one for strong spirits herself, she still had a great appreciation for the likely total alcohol content of that drink (the book said it was by far one of the more potent concoctions, although why it was called a 'tea' she hadn't the foggiest).]

Blimey! [Taking the empty glass, she began to make another.

At the mention of payment, however, her ears pricked up as little Mary sat upright in her head.] Valuable, eh? Wassit, and what about it don't ye trust?

[Don't try to scam a true Cheapside scammer, lad.]

[He's suddenly listening to her accent with a little chuckle, he hadn't heard the word blimey in a while. He relaxes visibly, pulling a rolled cigarette out of a metal case slid into his uniform. He lights it, blowing it away from her- not that he was meant to smoke in the common areas, he usually hid the habbit from captains so as not to cause an issue.]

Little thing called exuo. Its a powder, they put it in just about everything- food, water. Say its meant to be some kind of drug what calms people down. But we had a bit of an accident on another planet, the exuo made the aliens there go proper mental and try to kill a bunch of us. Wouldn't recommend eating it. [He shrugs, taking another drag.] But, trading the little bugger? Works just like cash.

[Open!]

[Closed (Eggsy)]

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cw: horrible gross world war ii things

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