(no subject)

[stoneblood]

Well, this was not at all the place that door usually led to. Now he's been drugged before, once (it didn't end very well when he found out who'd done it) but he hadn't a lick of whiskey today so he knew it weren't that, and Nash considered himself a fairly well off man up there in the noggin. So as to how that cellar door lead here was something of a mystery, putting aside all that 'here' was.

Matter of fact was, though, he could waste his time trying to make a fuss or just roll with the punches. Either way, he figured it'd sort its self in time.

So that being said, "Which one'a you gonna handle my ma's wrath when I ain't home for dinner?"

He rolled a toothpick between his lips with a cheeky grin. Then, more seriously, "what makes a man irredeemable?

Comments

[brave_heart_verity]

((Before I tag in: Verity's got a magic spell stuck in her that lets her always know when someone is lying to her. This includes sarcasm and knowing when someone believes something to be true when it isn't. This doesn't include lies of omission. She can also see through illusions and is immune to mind control but is somewhat aware of the attempts. If this is not your idea of a good time, that's cool, just let me know and I'll keep her out.))

[stoneblood]

(( no problem! ))

[brave_heart_verity]

"Your mother is your own problem." Verity had been on her way who-knows-where from one of the nearby cafes with a cup of something hot that smells like cinnamon and coffee. She's in her usual black and white striped shirt, today with black pants and pumps and a black leather jacket draped over her shoulders like a cape. And, of course, the braids. Always the braids. "This is your first time here, I'm guessing?"

The second question is a subject that's been on her mind for the last year or so; it's not hard for her to come up with a ready answer. "A person's only irredeemable when they're not willing to put in the effort to change for the better. Change is going to happen; you have the choice to try and guide yourself, or drift aimlessly."

[stoneblood]

Her comment on the mother situation made him snort back a laugh. Course, he was vaguely concerned if only because he cared quite a lot about the family but he was a few years out from 30. That wasn't a serious question.

Having been real near the back side of a bench, Nash leaned back on it with a single hand and crossed his old beaten in boots. He let the second answer roll around d for a bit as he fetched a cigarette with the idle hand, exchanged the toothpick with fresh roll, and flicked open a light.

"Mm," he hummed and pushed the light back into his pocket. "Reckon the worst of the worst are far from aimless. Bet they know exactly what they're doin'."

[brave_heart_verity]

It wasn't a serious answer, either.

The idea that the 'bad guys' know what they're doing gets a snort from her. Applied to the 'bad guys' she's met, it's a pretty laughable assertion. But if he doesn't know that, it's probably lucky for him. "Not really. Not as well as they like to think. If they do, they must be world-class masochists."

[red_room]

"Wouldn't peg a guy like you for bein' a Mama's Boy." There's a redhead watching him from a chair a little ways away, one eyebrow raised in either bored amusement, or idle curiosity. She makes no move to get up, but gestures vaguely to an empty chair near by.

It's up to him if he takes a seat.

"You're not irredeemable until you're dead." Her tone turns quiet at the answer to his second question.

[stoneblood]

Nash gave a laugh and knocked his heel against the side of his other boot, "a guy like me, eh?"

He pulled up a smile and wondered the short distance toward the offered spot. "You ain't never seen a wrath like my mama's."

He sits, legs out and booths crossed. Inked fingers curled beneath a sharp chin, not a shy bone in him as his eyes turned to her and listened.

"You sure 'bout that?"

[red_room]

"Positive." It would be awfully hard to be her if she didn't believe that. Redemption alone is a reason to live.

"Good thing there's a field preventing violence here, then. Just bring her with and let her try to be wrathful." Aaand right back to 'are we being serious or not?'. It's her favorite place to be.

[stoneblood]

"Couple skeletons in the closet, eh?" He leaned back and pulled out a cigarette to push between his lips.

Some of the time he felt that pang of guilt. That little piece of him heard God's scorn, and some tiny piece of him feared what awaited him after, if anything, mainly because when he came to collect outstanding debt there was that black piece of his heart that kind of enjoyed the power.

He lit the smoke, took a drag. "Oh she'd find a way to make me feel guilty. Ain't that the way with all Mama's?"

[red_room]

"Doesn't everyone?" What's a few hundred or thousand more between friends? She's always watching him. not looking at him like normal people do when they are having a conversation. Watching. Like a predator stalking prey.

"by that definition, my 'Mama' is a six foot bullshit super soldier from the 40s in a spangly suit." She snorts slightly. "He does, indeed. Make me feel guilty. Or he tries."

[notalldead]

If Nash is hurting for a swig of the blackjack, here's a cowboy with a bottle of the stuff in hand! A green-skinned cowboy. With no nose? And suspiciously milky eyes. Hair's looking a little patchy.

Is this guy dead?

Well, even if he is, Jesse smiles kindly enough after taking a hit off the Daniels. Smile's missing a lot of teeth, but still! "Ain't no one should have to face a ma who's rung the dinner bell and her boys ain't there. Y'all tried the door y'came through? Sometimes they're a two-way."

[stoneblood]

Now there's someone that knows what he's talking about. Please excuse Nash's momentary hesitation though. He's not blind, he's seen the 'people' here but good ol' Bonnie Carter made real sure her kids grew up both self-respecting and decent to others no matter their skin or religion (unless they pull one over on the family).

For the most part, Nash obeyed his childhood teaching. So he opted to not ask, for now. 'Sides, Jesse didn't seem out to hurt no one. Good enough.

Nash took a look around for a moment and sighed with a bit of defeat.

"Well if I was smarter I might've," he smiled, "but I ain't seen nothing like this before, now I don't know where the damn door is."

[notalldead]

Jesse tsks in sympathy and offers over the bottle for the stranger to take a pull if he wants it. "Startin' to feel more 'n more like I'm the luckiest fella around this here place. And that's a hell of a thing to think when y'ain't got a damn pulse! My door's a big concrete eyesore 'round here; subway entrance. Hard to miss and harder to lose."

Regardless of Nash taking the bottle or not, Jesse rummages in a pocket and pulls out a cigar one-third burnt and a clipper. "As far as yer second question, figgur that's when a fella done things well and beyond fergiveness. Hurtin' folks bad in ways worse 'n death. Knowin' he'll do it again soon as he gits the chance an' thinkin' only of himself the whole while. Ain't a lot of those sort out there, thankfully, but I know there are some."

[stoneblood]

"I was gon' ask about that but I didnt wanma be rude or nothin'". In regards to the whole dead thing.

His door was just some regular old wooden door. Nothing special to it at all. He listened a bit and tried to piece together what exactly had happened to the guy although his quest was pushed aside by alcohol.

While it begged to question what a dead man needed to drink for, Nash was far from the type of person to question when whiskey was being offered and since they were talkin' about Mama's, good ol' Bonnie Carter made real sure her kids grew up to respect both family, themselves, and others. Skin, religion, didn't make a difference. People were people. You only cross someone once they've crossed you.

For a crime family, they were very strict to their word and moral code, but then again... as were most. The one's that were anything more than a few pissheads trying to be big shots. The Thompsons have been around for some time.

Nash took the bottle and tipped both it and his head in thanks, a swig. Shame James was so roughed up (i.e. dead). Nash could see himself getting along real well with the man.

"Figure pain can be deserved?" He questioned further.

Not like Nash was still going through the struggle he had over the state of his soul when he was early 20. He'd come to sort of accept it, but business was business and family came first. It wasn't as if the people who ended up on Nash's bad side were good people either.

[notalldead]

"Just a small case o' death. Workin' to find a cure, don't you worry about that." Jesse gives Nash a wink and a sniff, thumbing at where his nose should be were it not missing outright. The cigar shortly gets the burnt end of it snipped off and a quick lick to wet it down. No good smokin' 'em dry. Always a beginner mistake.

"Figgur a person as nasty as that has earned a thumpin' and then some. Y'all see some real pieces of work back in my neck o' the woods. Most of 'em still livin'. Nothin' worse than seein' someone who's still human in body only. Any decency left some of them survivors and gangs first and foremost."

[westfallcorndog]

Harrowheart strolls up with a cigarette between his blue lips, arms crossed over his chest and his severed hands floating intertwined at stomach level. This place has some kind of dead dude infestation, apparently. At Nash's question he laughs once, a half-humorless little chuckle, and he rolls his eyes.

With a small grin and a shrug of his shoulders he says, "Ask most the folks around here and they'd say there's nothin' that makes a man irredeemable. Everyone's real positive in this place. Guess that comes part and parcel with this bein' most folks' second chance home."

He eyes the other man up and down quickly. "You wouldn't ask if you didn't have somethin' on your mind. Believe me, I know. So what's your baggage, man? Or do I gotta wine and dine ya to find out?"

[stoneblood]

Was he... dead? Not this guy, it was obvious this guy was dead but maybe Nash was dead too. Not what he thought Hell would look like (he didn't have any doubt that was where he was heading) but Nash didn't exactly believe everything in the Good Book was factual. He was not going to question the eerie glow, he just wasn't going to question.

"Ain't the wine and dine type," he remarked first with a slight smile. Yeah, Nash had noticed the overwhelming positivity of the place and that wasn't necessarily a good thing when someone like him was looking for a reason he really aught to try and change but comes up short.

Then again, the world needed it's demons, didn't it?

[westfallcorndog]

Harrow winks and laughs at that. "Good, 'cause I can't afford no fancy dinners right now." Oh, there's capitalism here? Yeah, this is definitely Hell.

He looks Nash over once again. He nods slowly as he considers the person he's seeing.

"Well, let me guess at your irredeemable sins before you spill all your beans. The tattoos give me a crime ring kinda vibe, but the hair says streetwise lone wolf. Jury's out on what kinda life the outfit implies. Don't know the context of your world."

Another half-second's thought before he hesitantly asks, "Are you from Earth? Most livin' human folks here are, but... I can't tell with you. You look a little different than all the rest, somehow."

[stoneblood]

His eyes narrowed in an amused grin before fingers went to fetch a smoke. Man caught on pretty well, although it didn't take a genius to figure someone lathered in ink might ride on the rougher side. A bit of a stereotype, he'd known quite a few with more ink than him who wouldn't hurt a fly. it just happened to be a truth in his case.

"Born just outside Memphis," he said, muffled by the rolled tobacco between his lips as he flicked the light open and let it burn. Another flick shut it, pocketed. "Which is Earth, case you ain't."

He kicked a heel against his other boot and shoved his hands into his pockets. Nash wasn't a dull boy, no matter what them American's up north thought about southern boys. He'd already figured a few things out about the place, one being that what came from his mouth here wouldn't particularly impact what happened back home if he managed to find his way back there.

"Lone wolf," he let his head roll back with a chuckle. "Naw, I'm a family man believe it or not."

Which didn't mean that he had a family yet, but that wasn't because he didn't want one. It was that little black piece of him that swallowed up the chances. He loved his family, but there was a huge part of him that didn't want to usher anyone else in to the Thompson family. The kind of people who would marry a man like him? Not the kind of person he'd want to marry.

"That lone wolf feelin you're gettin' is the demon sittin' right in here," he pointed to his chest, "that little part a' me that ain't got much a problem with what I do, you gon' guess what that is now?"

[westfallcorndog]

"Memphis," Harrow repeats quietly, barely a whisper. He shakes his head, because he doesn't know it.

The family bit surprises him at first. He hadn't expected to hear that, and yet... Somehow it seemed to make sense in hindsight. Maybe it was the guy's voice, the way he spoke. A familiar kind of down home, rolling fields, might-be-doing-farmwork-if-he-weren't-a-criminal sort of talk.

"Murderer," Harrowheart guesses, and he does so with confidence. "Earth's a comfortable place from what I hear, but I don't think robbin' or dealin' would sit on your mind bad enough that you'd bring it up in conversation. That leaves murder and kidnappin', but there ain't no reason to feel guilty over kidnappin' if it don't end in murder."

He raises his eyebrows and patiently waits to see how far off the mark he is.

[gate_crasher]

The Nexus Strangeness Wagon keeps on rollin', as a white-scaled lizard man in a fine hooded robe offers his thoughts on the subject. "We are only irredeemable when we choose to turn away from the hope of redemption. This is my belief." And, tilting his head slightly to one side, he adds, "do you find yourself in need of redemption?"

[stoneblood]

There was a lot of weird in his world, but that was only man-made instances. Like people going way too far with body mods, costumes and dress up, there wasn't actually any monsters or superhuman elements to Nash's world. So stepping foot in this place certainly overwhelmed him a bit, even though he wasn't about to show it. What good would come from throwing a fuss, after all?

So Nash listened and kept his thoughts to himself on the matter of the man's (?) appearance. Sound enough advice. He pocketed his hands, "somethin' like."

[gate_crasher]

The white lizard considers the human's taciturn response. Naturally curious, he would like to press for details, but the brevity with which the man speaks augurs against what might seem an intrusion. Instead he politely asks, "do you seek counsel on the matter?"

[stoneblood]

Nash had already figured that anything said here wouldn't follow him back home. It was just a complicated matter, so he rubbed the back of his head and thought about it some.

"Well," he started, "not rightly sure what it'd do." He didn't really think anyone would pay the question that much mind. "Family matters, see."

[gate_crasher]

Even so, some people don't want to tell strangers their personal problems, and it's a position Shade-Seeker respects. Still, he gives an encouraging nod. "Sometimes, an outside perspective can help us to see something new in a problem, and bring us a step closer to a solution."