#jus brain slopping like goo!!!!!

[delightedchips]

about the timebomb healing period ..

particularly interested in the idea of ekko also struggling to adjust having returned back to the current universe so suddenly and being whiplashed by a lot of things like the scar & sevika team up 😭 (i assume anw by how casual the two pop in tgt during the recruit meeting) it does offer a neat foundation of a shared sorrow of some kind between timebomb .. jinx watching him pour so much of himself taking care of her and also catching glimpses of him when he's away struggling to digest all the happenings of the firelights during his absence, grieving heimerdinger, rebuilding a semblance of a relationship with sevika, seeing the current dissipation of the tree, getting bombarded by news of an upcoming war and still having a big chunk of his heart to help jinx, making sure she's eating, her bed is warm, water is always ready .. a boy of many burdens ..

maybeee. the sadness cycles back to jinx because the sight of it all tugs her heart to guilt (maybe even anger) and she has this sudden urgency to save him from what hes committing to by taking her in . a part of her actually wants this second chance but she still doubts ekko understands who she really has become and desperately wants assurance that he does . But instead of asking for it she opts to try and convince him to give her up again via rashing out in cold-hearted anger . with the outcomes of either ekko actually giving up (which, in turn, to jinx, 'saves' him. which is viewed good! ekko doesn't deserve another burden. ekko deserves the 'truth'. at least to jinx) or, ekko not giving up (which, in turn, to jinx, assures her. affirms she is still worthy of love at all even at this point. maybe it's not too late. but jinx won't admit how appealing it all actually sounds or how she would much prefer that outcome).. I don't think ekko would react w comfort .. i want to think he'd break too . All the rage cracking thru .. but in the end he still chooses to pursue this path .. something something

A shared sorrow . Kinda. A cycle of sadness . Kiiinda. Just two broken people trying to figure it out .. carrying a semblance of a want to save the other but each of their efforts costing a part of themselves

[jocelyn-wellson]

A FORTNIGHT PAST

“And Wellson,” said Director Hawke, “yer heroics were appreciated on th’ way out o’ Stormwind. Just be … careful. Yer on yer own.” She extended her hand.

“Ain’ nothin’ keepin’ me from get’in’ back, if’fn tha’s wot ya mean,” said the Operative, taking the proferred hand. They shook on it. “Two weeks, I’ll do me par’ in Elwynn, fer me bruv’s Estate, and the surroundin’s. Nuffin’ stupit,” she agreed, letting go. She dipped her head respectfully.

“Dismissed.”

TWO HOURS AGO

She was worried when she entered the shop. Exotic leathers and pelts still graced the shelves; empty drying racks lined the upstairs. She heard a rustling in the back and drew her sidearm — the same sidearm, she’d been told by Elunara, once wielded by her brother’s best friend, Justine, for over thirty years. She would keep Myz’s in her slingpack, just in case. She brushed the curtain to the back room aside. The rustling stopped. Silence. She knocked thrice on the wall — noise seemed to attract them, these Scourge.

“Show yourself!” a familiar voice shouted. It was a terse command, one she also recognized from before.

“Et’s me… Joci!” she replied, unclipping her SI:7 — Unit 8 badge from her belt, sliding it toward the voice. She did the same with her new sidearm.

Hoss, the cobbler she’d met just before everything went to shit, was still alive. He was filthy, like he hadn’t been able to bathe for weeks. He placed his Dwarven shotgun on the ground.

“You… you made it?” he asked.

“Wouldn’ be standin’ ‘ere if’in I din’t, yea?”

The man, who had lost several pounds since last they met, rushed over and gave her a tight hug. “S-sorry, I just…”

Joci smiled as she was embraced by the man. “Aye. I ge’ et. Bein’ ‘lone durin’ all this?” She pat his back. “‘ere. I go’ somethin’ ta set ya a-right.”

Hoss let go and looked the woman up and down. “You got it, di—“

Joci presented the man with the soft-sole shoe design from Mister Yellah himself.

“How—?”

“Do ya wanna know?”

“Was he…?”

She shook her head. “Long gone. Bones. An ol’, forgot’en camp. Took a couple days searchin’, bu’,” she chuckled. “I go’ low, stay out’a sight…” She paused, picking up her items. “‘e go’ a propah burial, ‘e did.”

“How can I … this was the last of his… what can I do?”

“Well ya kin make th’ shoes fer one,” she said, cracking a smile. “Ya wanna walk ‘ome? Let ya ge’ clean?”

The towering man looked down at the diminutive brawler, flabbergasted. “If you can take on the dead and live?�� he chuckled. “Give me a sec. I’ll lock up.”

Joci beamed. She felt like she had done something right, not just through fighting, but by using her brain. She entered the back of the shop. It was fetid. He had hid amongst his own filth and the rotting remains of the Scourge to remain alive. She picked up the bodies and emptied his slop bucket into the sewer; the sound of the undead still skulking about explained why he hadn’t himself. She slid the heavy oak lid across it and weighed it with a few cinder blocks from behind which he’d been hiding. She entered from the back room.

“You didn’t have to,” said Hoss, mortified.

“I know,” she replied, softly. “Ya ready?”

The man nodded. And with that, the two entered a City transformed by carnage, war, death, fire.

“Where?” she asked, watching a raven pick at a bloated body in the Canal.

“Old Town,” he said.

“We’ll be there befir ya know et,” she said. She’d protect him just as she’d done for the Director and the young one, Nicole. Oh, she thought. Nikki. Gotta ‘member. Nikki.

NOW

“Where’ve ya been?” asked Kat.

“Yeah,” added Thea, drily. “Thought you died. Shame.”

Kat shot her a look. Joci did, too:

“‘elpin ou’, jus’ like I sai’.”

“Duskwind Patrol said they saw someone matchin’ yer description,” said Kat.

“I be five foo’ an’ one inch. Mebbe 105 poun’s. Plen’y o’ starvin’ people righ’ now…” she replied, thoughts drifting to Hoss, how he had changed. “Kingdom ain’ gonna ‘elp so, looks like I be a pop’lar person ta be now, don’ et??”

Thea crossed her arms indignantly. “You think you know so much, you little bit—”

“Thea!” shouted Kat so loud the rest of the Unit could hear. “Out. Now.”

The salty bureaucrat spun on her heel and stormed out. She slammed the door. Kat drummed her nails on the desk. “I’m going to ask you one time. Where were you.”

“Finding a dead man. Deadwind Pass.”

Kat rubbed her brow. “Jocelyn, I—”

“Direc’or,” she said the word popping out as it had before. She kicked herself for it. “I know a man. He can be o’ ‘elp ta us… isn’t tha’ wot we need? People we don’t pay bu’ barter wit’? I ‘eard ya talkin’ ‘bou’ et. Back in camp. I ownt a business —”

“A brothel,” she corrected Joci.

“Fine. I was a fuckin’ cum dumpstah pimp whore. Wha’eva.”

Kat rolled her eyes. “Yer point?”

“Ya cannae ‘spect goo’ things wit’ou’ get’in’ yer fists bloody.”

“You don’t think I don’t know that?” Kat’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t think I don’t look for wealthy patrons every fucking day?”

“These ain’ th’ wealthy. These be th’ people ‘ho need jobs! ‘ho lost everythin’! Fuck th’ rich! They wan’ fer nothin’! Ya donnae see me asking me bruv’s estate for ‘andouts, do ya? Ya wanna protec’ Stormwind? Donnae le’ et become anothah Moonbeam, yanno… like Wes’fall!”

Kat perked an eyebrow. “Moonbrook.”

“So ya remembah et’s name. Ya wanna medal?”

“Wot’s got you so fired up, anyway?” asked Kat, more interested than annoyed. She’d seen a fiery streak in Jocelyn before, knew about her insubordination within the ranks of the Proudmoore Admiralty… “Is this wot ya do? Ya get too close to people?” The Director scoffed. “Seven hells, Wellson. Ya can’t save everyone!”

Jocelyn set her jaw. She reached for her badge and drew Myz’s 9mm sidearm from her slingpack. She set them on the desk. “I be out.”

The fine lines around Kat’s eyes twitched. “Take a minute, cool down…” she said.  

“Nah. I ain’ ‘eartless. Quinn, Nicole … er, Nikki … they be th’ only ones lef’ wit’ a warm ‘eart. Wit’ a conscience.”

“Ya think I don’t have a conscience? Ya think I’m heartless?”

“I fink,” said Jocelyn, “Ya los’ touch wit’ life when ya was gone. Ya ain’ th’ woman I met in th’ Park.”

“You’ve no idea wot yer talkin’ about, Wellson.”

The two stared at each other for a long time. The badge and Myz’s 9mm sat between them. The clock ticked as clocks do, marking endless hopes and lives slipping away. Finally Jocelyn spoke:

“I know ya play fav’rites. I know ya lef’ Tris ta die.” She cleared her throat: “Over’eard tha’ lil’ gem in camp.”

Kat’s self-confidence faltered for the briefest of moments.

Joci continued. “I know we make mistakes, yea? Lords I know… ya came ta me a’ me lowes’, when I was nothin’ bu’ guttertrash. Abandont. No way home. Death waitin’ there anyway. Couldn’t read a’tall. Me bruv… watched ‘im die…” She inhaled deeply. She sat in the chair Thea had been using. She exhaled. “I met an ol’ man, back befir th’ Scourge attack. A leatherworkah. A mastah leatherworkah. Defent ‘is shop from th’ Scourge, ‘e did. Walkt ‘im ‘ome today. He be smar’, an’ ‘e be goo’. Bettah, he be cheapah than th’ Crown, askin’ only fer materials.”

“Really?” Kat drummed her fingers on her desk, suppressing a cynical laugh. “That’s it? Yer willing ta forsake yer job fer one man? A cobbler?”

“If’fn I cannae ‘elp people, why di’ ya bring me in?”

Kat looked over Joci’s face. The scar just across her nose. The braid in her hair. Lines of sorrow and years of seldom joy etched like the broken sky. Kat slid the gun and badge across the desk. “This.”

“W-wait… Wot?”

“I swear ta fuck yer unbreakable. Ya got a heart. Don’t know how, after everything ya went through, but ya do…,” she said, trailing off. “Ya do. Come on then.” Director Hawke stood, gesturing for Jocelyn to do the same. “Take me to the shops ya know, that have crafted for ya. Let’s at least see wot’s left.”

“Aye aye, Director,” said Operative Wellson, tucking Myz’s 9mm into her sling pack. She clipped the badge to the backside of her belt. “Aye aye.”

(( @kat-hawke @tristanasneak @myzariel @nikkithorpe @quinn-varden // @justinegrotius @brian-wellson ))