Wreakage

[Masquerade]

[Open to anyone who's not looking to drag Dust off into a Tribe D:]

The material was warm, some sort of cotton blend that had a nice enough feel to it that he bundled it up and slung it over his bag. It wasn't a big piece, he'd only been able to salvage a few square feet of the blanket - the rest had been ruined by water damage and vermin - but he could add it to his frankenstein monster of a quilt when he got home. He hadn't found much today, but it wasn't quite yet noon and he had stumbled accross a few houses that had survived the razings relatively un-mangled. If he was lucky, he might find some pots and pans to add to his ever growing collection back home.

The home in question was a half collapsed two-story a few blocks to the west; one side of the house was caved in, but the other was relatively intact. He occupied the top floor, and had shored up the walls and fixed the leaks until he had a rather cozy little fortress. The entrance and bolt-holes were cleverly disguised as well, with the top floor apparently cut off from the bottom. It kept out looters and anyone who might be looking around and stumble across his lair.

He finished winding a ball of twine and shoved it into his bag, sneaking out the bungalows front door and shutting the half-charred wood behind him. In rather high spirits, he wandered off down the sidewalk, whistling a tuneless song under his breath. Despite the sun and decently warm wind, he still had on his mitts, coat, hat and toque. A definitely odd sight, to be sure.

[Nessy]

There was a soft clinging sound, as that of metal poking against metal, and soft footsteps. A soft, boy-ish voice came following those noises, sounding scared, lost. "Je... Ali je nihc?e tam?", the voice asked, almost hiccuping. There were some louder noises of someone falling and tripping over their own feet, a gasp and a dry sound of knees going to the floor. "Prosim! Pomagajte mi!", the voice sounded terribly troubled.

Was Gabriel to look outside the cottage, he would see a lost, scared boy pratically pinned to the razorwire wall, bleeding from his forehead and a small cut under his left eye. It was dangerous, that cut, since it inched close to the eye. However, not dangerous, for him, in a way he could lose his eyes. Afterall, that boy... was blind. His cane had rolled away from his now limited reach. He also carried a backpack he seemed to protect dearly.

"Prosim! Pomagajte mi!", he repeated, obviously terrified.

{I'm not sure if the Slovene is well-written, since I'm using an online translator. Yes, I don't speak Slovene. Shock!}

[Masquerade]

[Mai hands smell like gasoline Dx]

Dust was considering turning back towards home. His shoulder, even as used to the constand weight of his bag as it was, was beginning to ache under the added load of his latest finds, the fabric and a the salvagable parts from what had been a sewing kit at some point. No sooner had he turned on his heel, however, then he'd changed his mind.

The fence was jingling. Normally, this meant that someone or something was wriggling through, usually a Tribe kid going from section to section of the 'burbs looking for something to eat. Sometimes there were other loners like himself, and more often that both other possibilities were the small creatures that snuck through the fence, and usually into his pots.

This time, however, there was something different. There was someone stuck to the fence. And there was blood. He could make that much out. But by then curiousity had taken over and he was already making his way towards the small figure, one hand resting on the hilt of his skinning knife. Just in case.

"Hey." he called out, now up against the fence only a few yards from the boy (he could make out the source of the blood now, some nasty looking cut on the kids face), in a voice heavily colored with a coarse south-england accent. "Y'all right, kiddo?"

[Nessy]

The kid heard the voice and turned to where it came from desesperately. He just kept wheezing the same request over and over with a scared expression glued to his face. His colourless, blind eyes gazed to nowhere, not really focusing on his face since he couldn't really see it. He talked fast and had a hand gripping to his chest, to his fragile heart. Jernej didn't understand Gabriel's question for he didn't know one single word of English.

The boy then tried to reach out to whoever was there, blantaly desesperated, lost. So scared, so nervous; like a little mouse trapped inside some strange experience that envolved a very long, dark maze. He had never really complained about his disability, but right now he was feeling helpless. The scent that this city carried was one of death. And that made him even more nervous than he would've been if he wasn't blind.

[Masquerade]

Awh hells, the kid was Swedish or something.

Dust swallowed an angry groan, giving the rest of the fence a visual once over. The boy was along, didn't speak English, didn't seem to have a weapon (or at the very least, one that he could see), and unless he was mistake, was blind. He had two choices, as he saw it; leave the kid for the critters or Tribes to pick up, or...

"Ah, bugger." he muttered, dropping his bag to the ground and tearing it open. Shifting through the chaos inside, he finally found what he was looking for: peroxide and a neatly tied bundle of slightly yellowed fabric he'd cut from some old, formerly white, sheets. Crouching down, he edged towards the boy with the bottle in one hand and the makeshift bandages in the other, talking like he would to a wounded animal. After all, when it all came down to it, humans had the same base lash-out-when-cornered instincts that their so-called 'less intelligent' fellow mammals did.

"Hey now, j'st calm down a tad there, nuttin' 'ere gonna hurt yeh..." he said softly, inching forward. He needed to get close enough to look at the cut on the kids forehead. He couldn't access it from where he was; head wounds bled a lot no matter how minor they were, making it hard to tell the full extent of the damage until they were cleaned.

[Nessy]

His ears picked the calm tone of his clear voice, finding no hidden intent to do harm. He calmed down a little. He had his coat and his scarf, both old and worn out, typical of a poor person, bind to the razorwire wall. He couldn't understand that, much less see it, so he had panicked. Jernej calmed down a little, but not much.

Jernej had his breathing erratic and was pratically hyperventilating. The boy blinked and moved his head as if he wanted to know where the source of that voice was. He clearly didn't understand English either, so he just quieted down, knowing that the other boy probably didn't speak Slovene either. He was just tired, confused, hungry and lost. This emotional state of his was getting him to exhaustion.

[Masquerade]

Dust balaned the tiny plastic bottle of peroxide on one knee, holding the bandages in his good hand as he set about accessing the boys situation. His clothing was pinned to the sharp jagged bits of the fence; Dust would need to take care of that before anything else.

He peeled off his left mitt with his teeth, holding the thick material out of the way while he set about picking the bits of fabric off from where they'd snarled in the wire. It didn't take long to do, although his haste left a few loose threads poking out of the weave of the kids scarf and coat.

"Th's is gonna sting, kiddo. S'rry."

Picking one of the smaller bits of fabric from the bundle in his hand, he uncapped the bottle of peroxide and grit his teeth against the inevitable howls that tended to accompany the disinfectants use. Moving quickly he pressed one hand over the boys eye and used the other to trickle the liquid over the wound. Normally he woud have just used water, but the fence was filthy and, in some places, rusty. Better to be safe than sorry and sick with tetanus.

[Nessy]

Jernej praticaly latched on to Dust when he peeled him away from the fence. His heart was beating really fast, which worried him a lot, due to his heart condition. He bowed his head, saying the only thing he knew in English, "Thank you.", with a thick slovene accent.

Not understanding one word of that Irish boy, he just clung to him, before yelping in pain when the peroxide started to sting, pressed against that wound. He closed his eyes forcefully and pressing his lips together, thus forming a thin line, trying to repress his little yelps.

He was also feeling pretty unsafe and helpless, having no idea where his cane had rolled off to - even though it wasn't too far off. However, he wouldn't know that, being blind.

[Masquerade]

He had to give the kid credit, he didn't make too much noise, even when the stuff bubbled on the wound in the nasty, rabid manner that made it creepy to watch in action. It was a little odd being clung to, especially during his stint in New Pork where it seemed people were more likely to try and stab you before they gave their name. With a quizzical twist to his rather humorless grin, he tried to dislodge the boy and rise to his feet.

So bring on the moral dilema; should he leave the kid a safe distance from the fence, or drag him back home and make sure he didn't walk into an uncovered manhole? Sighing heavily he weighed the two possiblities against each other; option one was easy but could condem him to a hellish karmic existance, option two meant he'd need to deal with a Swede with maybe one or two phrases of English under his belt.

"Oooi." he said at length, by that point not really expecting the kid to understand him. "Wanna c'me with me?"

[Nessy]

Not understand a word Gabriel had said, Jernej started to speak in Slovene, which would pretty much be a vice-versa, but it didn't take a big brain to decypher what he was talking about - not understanding and that he didn't speak English at all. The blind boy then shook his head, as if he knew it was pointless to speak, and rose his hands, gesturing a "wait" or maybe a "stop", but it would probably mean the first one, seeing as he moved carefully to the direction of his cane. Not that he could see it, he simply remembered where he had heard it roll away from his grasp. When his foot tipped the cane, he bent over to pick it up.

A little less uneasy, the blind boy grasped the cane between his bony hands and turned his head to where Medic was. He didn't speak at all, not made any expression, just standing there, without knowing what to do. The boy was obviously lost and afraid, and wouldn't stand a chance against any Hunter or Omega. He didn't even know where he was.

[Masquerade]

Gabriel groaned, both annoyed and distressed at the whole language barrier issue. Unhappily, he fidgeted with the trailing edge of his scarf, glancing over his shoulder repeatedly as though he expected an ambush at any moment. The fences always attracted scavengers, and he - they - had been too close too long for his comfort.

The kid didn't understand English. Okay, he could deal with that. Probably. Good God, just what in the seven rings of Hell was he getting himself into? Ah heck, he'd done this much so far, he might as well suck it up and continue.

"C'me oon, we need t' git movin'." he said urgently, reaching over to tug on the boys sleeve; trying to get the whole 'follow me' point across.

[Nessy]

Jernej smiled in relief and held on to the arm of hand that tugged at his arm, using the other for the cane to guide him. Very careful with the backpack he had on his shoulders, acting as if the most precious thing that existed in the whole world was safely secure there.

Well, for him, it was the only materialist thing he had that he could treasure; it was to him what a billion dollars were to the average folk. His beloved violin.

[Masquerade]

Gabriel lead them through the bits of wreckage that dotted the landscape, heading towards his home base. Every so often the red-headed boy would glance back over his shoulder to make sure the pace wasn't too fast, and to get another look at the blind boy and his strange affinity for the backpack he carried.

He caught himself about to ask just what he was carrying more than once, but quickly reminded himself that his questions would go uncomprehended. Instead he kept up a steady stream of idle chatter, talking more to himself than the boy.

"Dun suppose there's nah problem takeen yah back wi'h me. Nah like yah'll remeber tha route oor nothin'." He sighed, taking another turn that would take then down the street he'd set himself up on.

[Nessy]

Jernej used his cane to bump it against anything that might be in front of him while clinging to Medic's arm, so that he wouldn't trip. He was very quiet the whole time - well, it was not like even if he did talk they'd engage a conversation, given as the blind boy was Slovene and didn't know a single word of English, and, obviously, Gabriel didn't know a word of Slovene.

When Gabriel started speaking, Jernej understood simply by his off tone that he was not talking to him, so he just followed him. Jernej had developed a very acute sensor for reading in-between the lines, which helped him understand people, even if he did not know the language they were talking in. But if Gabriel was talking to him, it would be pretty pointless, for he would not understand a thing. Plus, not only he would not remember the route, he wouldn't be able to tell anyone about it - nor he would feel the need to.

[Masquerade]

Gabriel took an abrupt turn to the left, making a beeline for the sagging two-story he inhabited. The front door was blocked off by a leaning pile of miscellaneous junk that had to all appearances slid down from the 'dead' half of the roof. The windows where relatively whole, but nearly opaque with filth and shuttered for the most part. While it looked like there wasn't any way inside without hauling aside a few hundred pounds of building materials, Medic headed straight for pile that blocked off the front door, crouching down where the pile touched the side of the house. He pushed at a few splintered sections of plywood, revealing a hole just big enough for a small man to squeeze through.

"Yeh need ta let go." he said, removing his arm from Jernej's grasp. "J'st follow meh throogh, 'kay?"

Gabriel didn't wait for an answer, instead sliding through into the front hall of the home. He performed his usual quick check to make sure nothing was disturbed (he disliked the idea of anyone 'breaking in' while he was out), then turned and called back outside.

"Coome in, 'fore some'un sees yah!"

[Nessy]

The blind boy let go of Medic's grasp when he started to pull away his arms and stood by, listening to the surroundings; per usual, the human body usually made the lack of something by enhancing others. Jernej's was his fingers for the violin he held dearly and his acute hearing.

Figuring by merely the tone of aprehension in Gabriel's voice, Jernej nodded and slowly made his way until he felt Gabriel again, holding on lightly to him. He smiled up at him - or at least he thought that was up - and nodded. Touching his own fragile chest, the boy parted his lips to mouth his named.

"Jernej.", he said, simply. He touched his chest again. "Jernej.", then his hand touched Gabriel's and tipped his head a little, with a questioning look.

[Masquerade]

"Yer... Jerneh?" Gabriel said hesitantly, frowning slightly. Apparently that was as close to pronunciation as he was getting. He huffed lightly, readjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder. He wanted to know his name?

"Gabriel." he replied, somewhat awkwardly. It felt extremely odd talking to someone who, to all appearances, didn't understand half of what he said, if that. And the the blindness, gestures wouldn't be of any use when it came to trying to get ideas across. Sigh. Bugger.

On that topic, the kid was damn lucky no one had tried to take a chunk out of him. Hell, he was lucky he hadn't gotten himself fu.cking killed. New Pork wasn't exactly the kindest place for the handicapped.

Frowning slightly, the Irishman rubbed his left hand, massaging feeling back into his scarred knuckles while he tried to access the situation.

"...J'st wha th' hell m'aye gonna do with yeh?" he mumbled, popping the joints of his fingerss softly.

[Nessy]

Jernej giggled at the mispronunction of the name of his and nodded as the Irishman gave his own name. He smiled and tipped his head, hearing the foorsteps and the soft cracks of fingerbones. Quiet for a moment, he then sighed, tired, and sat down on the floor, taking his backpack from his shoulders and placing the cane he had for aid by his side.

Unbuckling the backpack slowly, he dragged out the violin and caressed a string with one of his bony fingers, before putting it between his shoulder and chin on the chinrest, closing his eyes as he pulled the bow over the string, just giving one soft note.

And then followed the melody. A popular Russian folk music began to fill the air as Jernej played quietly, eyes closed, his hair falling over his forehead and eyelids slowly, fingers of the left hand moving around so that the melody came out absolutely perfect.

A jolly music for such gloomy place could be seen as macabre. But it certainly sounded a lot better with eyes closed.