Open Post 002

[2020mod]

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musebox • rules • character list

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[viced]

Heck, it's always nice to have a little bit in the bank, huh?

[ He kept leading him on. There was a difference there, but maybe he'd always been the abnormal one. Nelson seemed like he wanted the personal attention. Mitchell, however, never had. He was intensely private, to the point that he forewent most recreation and enjoyment in an effort to keep his privacy just so.

He lets his hand drop, once he seems to have at least some control over his balance. ]

The problem with the press is that they always forget to give you any dignity, really. Once they start smelling blood, they call everyone else to circle around. There's so little balance.

[retropolis]

Oh, I know. Believe me, I know just how awful the press can be. I've had -- you know, I've known people who've died b-because of what the press had to say about them. I could never--

[ He shakes his head, breathing slowly. ]

I just can't. I want to be known for the good, not the... shameful. Not that it matters now. The world doesn't recognize the good, the great, or even the decent anymore.

[viced]

I know it doesn't. I'm, ah, that's the point, by the way, of my books.

To try and remind people that we're all good people. That we can do great things.

[ That imports could do great things, if the world would let them. It just seemed like it kept moving on, leaving the rest of them to fade in to the shadows, or become one with a regime even he couldn't support.

And he'd always relinquished most of his scruples for power. ]

[retropolis]

How's that going? [ Nelson chuckles bitterly, leaning against Maskin again. ] No offense. I'm sure your book is very good, but I can't say I've noticed much change.

[viced]

I know. It's never going to happen fast, especially not by writing a book.

[ He doesn't hold him up this time, or at least not help him outright, but he doesn't step away. No need for the guy to stumble and break his nose on the concrete. ]

But it lays some groundwork.

[retropolis]

That's what you hope, at least. [ He looks forward sadly, wiping at his eyes again. He points down the block. ] Sometimes it can't even do that. Not just books, but anything. You try to drum up some hope and some sense, but they just--

That's my house, by the way. Right down there.

[viced]

Ah, great. [ He led him in that direction, but it was slow going. ]

It might not do anything, but if I just leave it, I'd feel even worse about it. It's a moral obligation kind of thing, you know?

[retropolis]

[ Nelson stops for a moment to lean against a mailbox, breathing slowly and hiccuping again. He fears for a moment he will vomit but it's just a false alarm. ]

Why? [ His eyebrows furrow a little curiously. ] You're not one of those, uh, imPorts, are you? What's the concern in it for you?

[viced]

[ He laughs, and shook his head. You never knew who you could or couldn't trust in the import community. ]

No, I was born in New Jersey, I'm just a guy with an actual sense of right and wrong. This is a civil rights issue, and I can't just let injustice slip right by like that.

[retropolis]

Civil rights. [ Nelson clicks his tongue, rubbing his temple. ] I suppose you could put it like that if you had to. I don't know if I would... exactly... but obviously these people need some kind of help.

[viced]

They do. [ He lifted a shoulder. Shrugging. ] The problem is that there aren't enough people out there to help them. Not enough allies on our side.

[ He knew it was ironic, that "our side" was really just their side. ]

[retropolis]

[ He catches that, but mostly subconsciously -- the "our." He doesn't comment, though, fearing he's too inebriated to have heard or interpreted correctly. ]

No, there aren't. It's too hard to ally lost causes.

[viced]

[ He didn't catch the slip, thinking that Maskin was on the side of imports, but he shook his head. ]

It's not a lost cause. I wouldn't have signed on like this if I didn't think there was something here. Imports shouldn't be treated like this, hell, nobody should.

[ He snorted, soft and bitter. ] History shouldn't repeat itself, you know?

[retropolis]

[ He stumbles forward again, blinking wearily. ]

I think that depends on what the history is. This, though -- well, no, of course no one should be treated like criminals unless they've really done something.

[viced]

I agree, and while some imports were shitheads, a good portion of them never did anything but try and make this place better. [ He looks around, at the swath of houses, curious. ]

Which one is yours, anyway?

[retropolis]

At the end of the block -- around the corner, I mean.

[ He points to the brownstone at the corner. He clears his throat a little, nodding briskly. ]

A world should never turn on heroes. No matter who they are or where... or where they come from. That's not the way to get anything done at all.

[viced]

[ He leads nelson that way, but they're still far enough away that it's a bit of a hike. For a guy who rarely ate much, he sure as fuck moved like a pro still. ]

No, it's not, but we're all human, and unfortunately, fear is a powerful motivator. It's sad, but it's true.

[retropolis]

I know.

[ His voice loses a little strength, hit with a guilty pitch, and he supports himself on Maskin a bit more even though they're almost there, just down the block and around the corner...

Hooded Justice is always on his conscience. Even Ursula. ]

I couldn't tell you how familiar I am with the truth of that, Mr. Maskin. Survival, I would call it. Nearly everyone's motivated by a want to survive.

[viced]

And when something threatens it, we'll do anything to make sure we can keep going, yeah.

[ He props him up a little. He never inquired, or got, all of Nelson's story, but he could recognize the need to lean on someone.

Well, he wasn't much better, deaths on his conscience weighing him down, but he helped Nelson anyway. He had purpose. ]

[retropolis]

For as smart as we are, it's a shame we're not really as noble as we like to imagine...

[ He looks forward a little miserably. ]

It's a miracle anyone can live still with themselves past a certain age. I wish I could still look at the world the way you do.

[viced]

Hah. [ It was just a touch too bitter to not show the raw wounds still left that he couldn't get rid of. He shook his head. ]

I don't think you want to. I just want to help, there's nothing special about that.

[retropolis]

No. I really do. I used to think like that, I just haven't been able to muster the energy anymore. As -- well, you saw...

[ He clenches his jaw in mild shame, pulling away again to try and walk on his own. ]

[viced]

Yeah, hey, don't worry about it.

We've all wished for it, time and again.

[ He sometimes wished he'd been killed early in life, before he'd had the chance to fuck everything up, hurt the people he'd loved. He was sure, of course, that his mother would have mourned, and Kremlin, but they'd have been alive.

He didn't dwell, and shook his head instead. ]

You'll be alright.