Intruder

The world is full of places. You can go to them, and RP.

Intruder

Jackson Myers
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Jackson Myers
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Joined: 14 Nov 2010, 22:39

17 Nov 2010, 12:04 #1

Nestled in the mountains of British Columbia lies a little town called Clinton. It was a fun town, a good town. Every year they'd hold a rodeo, attracting people from all around to join in the fun.

No one comes to Clinton anymore.

In about about a three hundred metre radius around the town, there are signs, both official and handmade, that say, "This is Clinton. You have 100 metres to turn back." In about a two hundred metre radius, there is a barely recognizable ring of bullet holes that surround the tiny hamlet.

And in Ducki Lakes, just down the road, there is a lot of food for the fishes.

Today was like any day for Sergeant Jackson Myers. A fitful, half-awake sleep on the roof of the local community centre, a trip down to Liquor Depot to pick a bottle for the morning (merlot would do for now... he might try that Barbadian rum for the second half of the day), and simply... wait, and listen. Recently, things had been quiet. People got the point.

No one comes to Clinton anymore.

He'd make sure of it.

But, as his head swiveled instinctively to the southeast, he realized that not everyone got the picture. Not everyone understood. This was his town. His territory. No one would take it from him. And anyone who tried wouldn't live long to succeed.

They were getting close. He had to move fast. He ran swiftly to the community center, able to hop to its roof in record time since getting the rust off his building-climbing game in the days and weeks following the ... events. He barely broke stride grabbing his trusty rifle from its place next to his mattress as he ran to the opposite side of the building, landing a bit roughly as he headed for the Parrish place.

The Parrishes had the tallest house in the southwest quadrant of the town. It was one of a handful of vantage points Jackson had picked out. They'd all seen action since he'd picked them, and they'd served him well, the Parrish place the best... people loved to come up the 97 for some reason... Americans from the south? He never asked. They all fed fish the same.

Placing his rifle on the bend of the roof, he looked down his scope...

He sighed, taking a good chug off his still-clutched bottle of merlot. "Who is it THIS time...?"
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Joy Buchanan
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Joy Buchanan
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Joined: 02 Dec 2010, 06:47

06 Dec 2010, 00:09 #2

The signs were what sealed it for Ms. Joy Buchanan. Clinton. What was in Clinton that meant so much to them? What did they have? Who was so dedicated to it?

She shoved her hands into the pockets of her dingy pink down coat, feeling the comforting solid mass of handgun metal warmed next to her body. She narrowed her eyes to scan the buildings ahead with a critical gaze. The breeze turned, pulling a lock of hair across her eyes that had escaped from beneath her knitted wool cap. The breeze brought smells, too: the old mildew and fleshrot of abandoned civilization.

There was something good here. Joy liked good things, particularly the ones that belonged to her. As a result, she liked to make sure good things got that way as often as possible.

Still more promising, the streets smelled like wolf. Not the ordinary sweet and stupid sort of wolf, either, but the real kind. The kind like her. There was so little else to smell, though. Who was it?

Were they all alone here?

That promised danger, and hope. It was dangerous because someone who had the inclination and the means to secure such a territory all to themselves was surely at least a little unhinged and a formidable threat to contend with. Wasn't there hope, though, in that they were alone?

She hoped it was a man. Joy hoped it was some tough as nails bastard with nobody to take care of him, who hopefully wouldn't get any nasty ideas and need Joy to paint the cracked pavement with his brains.

A woman might also work, though, depending on how Joy played it. Young, maybe? Missing a lost mother, or possibly resenting a mother who hadn't been worth missing? An older woman, mature like herself, in need of a confidante steadier than men who came and went, or children who forgot about her? An older woman would be the hardest.

Of course, though, no matter who it was, Joy Buchanan would manage.

She stopped on the border, into denser plays of scent.

She smiled.

It was a man.

Some nasty strutting territorial thing, maybe?

Would he protect some pushy and sweet little ladything as ferociously as he protected his deserted little wasteland of a town?

The prospect of a new challenge had her spirits lifted already. Now if she could just find a polite way to announce herself. Best not to seem like she was sneaking.

"Sleigh bells ring... are you listening?" she started softly, even her showy spirit somewhat smothered by the thick silence. "In the lane, snow is glistening..." Good Lord, she had missed music. Little songs like this that everybody learned forcibly through the holiday season because of ceaseless repetition in department stores and on the radio... nobody heard them anymore. "A beautiful sight, we're happy tonight, walking in a winter wonderland. In the meadow we can build a snowman..."

And you're going to tell me where you are...

"He'll say, Are you married? We'll say, No man,"

And you'll do as I say long as I'm in town...

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Jackson Myers
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Jackson Myers
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Joined: 14 Nov 2010, 22:39

06 Dec 2010, 00:44 #3

When he was first alone, when he was truly devoid of anyone, Jackson would chase after people that came into town. He saw them from way off, and he'd walk out, rifle in hand, handgun in holster, and tell them the town was off limits and they couldn't stay. More often than not, that got... messy. People ran, people hid... people had to leave. You didn't just enter a man's territory like that. Or... a creature's territory. Whatever he was. It didn't happen.

Not without consequences.

So, he realized how tiring that was, and just decided to set up nests. The Parrish place, the Nomad motel, the Co-op grocery store... he prepped most of them with a staging area, some strips of cloth for reading the wind, and notches for favoured entry points (though he didn't have to use them outright). It made things... simpler.

Better.

No one was supposed to come in.

The target was visible now. It was a woman. Jackson hated it when women came into town. More... messiness. Though this one...

Something about the wind...

She smelled... different than other people. He couldn't put his finger on why. Was that...

He didn't know.

He could not afford to care.

Squaring up his rifle, he read the wind by the strip of cloth in his sights and put a bullet in the ground a few feet in front of the woman.

Hopefully, that would be enough to make her turn around and never think about this place again...
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Joy Buchanan
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Joy Buchanan
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06 Dec 2010, 01:11 #4

There was a sharp impact against the dirt at the side of the road. Joy smelled dust and gunpowder.

He shot at me! she thought, outraged. That little orphan vagrant miscreant shot a gun at me! I ought to rip his--

She kept a strong handle on her feelings, and decided the best option was neither to run and beg to be chased, nor to stand and fight, nor to plead and beg to be disdained and victimized. He knew what to do in all those cases.

Joy had to do something he wouldn't have a rehearsed response to. She pulled her hands out of her pockets, handgun curled in the fingers of her right hand, and then put the backs of her hands on her hips so that the gun hung in her hand in plain sight. Made a strong contrast with the stern, "Oh! Well!"

A warning shot. Why not just kill her? Why just try and chase her off?

Joy looked up above her for the source of the shot. She couldn't see him, so she just called, "Son, you're going to get pneumonia up there, lying in wait all day." Did she smell wine? Red, by the scent. Heavens, it was the middle of the day. "And you'll freeze faster with the liquor than without it. Aren't you cold?"

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Jackson Myers
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Jackson Myers
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06 Dec 2010, 02:01 #5

Jackson had a strong voice. Someone could swear he was shouting at the top of his lungs when he swore up and down he was trying to whisper. It was more of a recent development than anything... it had always been strong, but it got louder and louder as he grew older.

Probably to do with the wolf thing.

Whatever.

The woman (older, he could tell now) had a good voice too, her voice carrying to him with ease. He was about to call back, when it occurred to him...

The wind was all wrong for her to smell his drink on the wind. And even then... how on earth did she smell his drink from that distance?

There was something odd going on, but Jackson had long ago suppressed his detective's instinct. It didn't matter. He didn't care. She was trespassing on his land and she had to go, one way or another.

"Go away!" was his only response.
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Joy Buchanan
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Joy Buchanan
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06 Dec 2010, 02:47 #6

Was that a command? Was he ordering her?

That wasn't going to happen.

She leaned back against the side of the building, once he'd revealed his position to be above her on the roof. Be an awkward angle firing down parallel to the wall.

"Or you'll what? How many of our kind have you really gotten down in the dirt and scrapped with? I'm almost seventy. You think it's more'n me?"

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Jackson Myers
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Jackson Myers
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06 Dec 2010, 03:03 #7

Our kind? What the hell is she talking about? I-

No amount of fighting could keep the pieces from falling into place in his mind. It was as easy as 'the sky is blue.'

Dear god, it was another werewolf.

He hadn't met one yet. Hadn't wanted to. The only one he'd met had tried to turn him into a meal, so he wasn't too keen on meeting any more. But this one... she was just an old woman.

Who didn't seem to like taking any crap.

"... I'm coming down," he said, still authoritative, still in control. "Do not move a muscle or you don't get five feet without a missing kneecap, understand? Do. Not. Move."

Jackson stood, his eye and his weapon still trained on the old woman as he stepped to the apex of the Parrish house. He'd messed up his knee once doing this, but it was worth keeping the woman in his sights. He ran down the slope facing her, letting gravity move his feet until he reached the gutter, where he moved his feet out of the way and landed on the porch below.

He looked up. She was still there. In a flash the rifle was up, trained back on her without a flinch.

He still wanted her out. He just wanted to know some things about himself before she went.

That shouldn't be too hard.
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Joy Buchanan
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Joy Buchanan
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06 Dec 2010, 03:22 #8

Bossy one, wasn't he? Joy rolled her eyes and petitioned the sky for aid in dealing with self-important men. It was really a shame that not everybody knew her place as quickly as Joy herself did. Every single time, she had to lay down the law all over again.

He seemed to need to think he was in charge. Well, fine, then. Probably easiest to let him think that for a while.

The stranger who called this empty little toy town full of nothing but furniture home... well, he did like to make an entrance, didn't he? His feet hit the porch, and he immediately put that rifle's focus back on her. She wanted to give him a little golf clap for his performance, but that would have required raising her right hand--which still had a handgun in it. Joy didn't really assume he'd take that well.

"Well, hi," she said, raising her eyebrows, pleased that the big drunk sentry man had dared come within a hundred meters of her. "I'm Joy. You're not really all by yourself, are you?"

That just wasn't any way for a wolf to live.

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Jackson Myers
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Jackson Myers
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06 Dec 2010, 03:52 #9

"Everyone died," he replied, his voice returning to a human-level volume. "Surprised you couldn't guess that."

Jackson looked her over. She didn't SEEM too badly off. She could go to any town in the county, hell, the PROVINCE, and she'd be fine. Why didn't she just-

Focus, Jack, he said to himself. Pump her for info, then drive her off. Just do that, okay? Okay...

"So," he asked, trying not to flare his nostrils smelling too much. "We ARE called werewolves, right? Saw that movie with the chick in the leather tights. Just don't like the sound of 'lycan'..."
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Joy Buchanan
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Joy Buchanan
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06 Dec 2010, 05:36 #10

He didn't know that?

He didn't know anything but what he'd seen in the movies?

Joy had given him an appropriately-sad gaze upon hearing the totally unsurprising news that lots of people he knew had died. She knew what the world was. She knew how many dead people there were in it, and people who might as well be dead. That went away when her eyebrows shot up in surprise at his ignorance.

The poor sweetheart. Could he really not know?

"Yes, dear," she said, her voice heavy with sympathy that he was so alone and without guidance. "Why do you ask?"

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