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snarktheater · 6 years ago

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Ghosts of the Shadow Market — Every Exquisite Thing

Today, we’re still hanging out with the gang from an unreleased book trilogy. And to be fair, we’re in much less angering territory than the previous story. So there’s that—we’re back to “mostly okay, but also, why isn’t this just fanfiction rather than a published work you’re expecting people to pay you money for?” So, you’ve been warned, this is mostly lacking in any kind of proper fire.

It’s also lacking in any kind of meaningful presence by one Jem Carstairs, which may be an interesting correlation. Then again, I didn’t hate Cast Long Shadows for Jem’s part in it, so…who knows, really.

Every Exquisite Thing focuses on Anna Lightwood. If you’ve been following, Anna is Gabriel Lightwood and Cecily Herondale’s oldest daughter. She’s also Christopher’s older sister, and as such, the modern-day Lightwoods' great-great-something-aunt.

Anna is also a nonbinary lesbian. I think that’s the best way to label her, seeing as she seems to still use she/her pronouns, is attracted to women and refers to it specifically in lesbian terms. But Every Exquisite Thing opens before she’s out of the closet. And I mean that both metaphorically and literally, seeing as she’s also in a closet at the start of the story.

Specifically, she’s in her brother Christopher’s wardrobe looking for clothes of his to steal and wear for herself in secret. See, she likes wearing men’s clothes and assuming a more manly presentation in general. This does come at the cost of criticizing the “girly” persona she’s forced to assume, and…you know, I’m not touching that one, because while rejection of femininity by women is its own problem, I feel like it’s excused for a genderqueer character.

Anna’s room was so different from her brother’s. Her walls were papered in a dusty rose […] Given her choice, the paper would be a rich, deep green, her decor black and gold. She would have a deep chaise longue on which she could read and smoke.

You get the gist.

Now, you may be thinking: “wait, she’s Cecily’s daughter, and Cecily couldn’t wait to be a warrior and use Shadowhunter fighting gear, so why is she even dressing up like a man in secret?” And if so: congrats, you spoiled yourself the end of the story. Thankfully, the conflict in the story isn’t really about her coming out as genderqueer, because otherwise this would be really dull to anyone who knows the previous generation of Shadowhunters (and Clare’s refusal to let her darlings show the slightest hint of modern-day intolerance, even if it would be justifiable in their own time).

So anyway. Anna retreats to her room with the stolen clothes to change. This is complete with telling us Anna doesn’t wear a corset ever, because feminism, and then describing her feelings on wearing men’s clothes.

Even in these clothes—stains and ham sandwiches and all—her confidence swelled. She was no longer a gangly girl who looked awkward in ribbons and flounces. Instead she looked elegant, her lean body complemented by more severe tailoring, the waistcoat nipping in her slim waist and flaring over her narrow hips.

She fantasizes about using Matthew’s clothes instead, since he’s the fashionable one, but even Christopher’s clothes, damaged as they are due to his one character trait being “mad science”, are good enough for now. She also fantasizes about charming young ladies in her attire, just so you know that yes, she is a lesbian, and then the plot kicks in in the form of Cecily calling her downstairs.

The plot, in this case, is Inquisitor Bridgestock and his family being in London, and since the Lightwoods are a big deal, they were invited for dinner to talk politics. Anna’s not pleased, but she has no choice. Cue meeting the Inquisitor’s family, and specifically, his only daughter Ariadne.

In the doorway of the dining room stood a girl, probably Anna’s age, in a midnight-blue dress. Her hair was jet black, like Anna’s, but fuller, more luxurious, deep as night sky against her soft brown skin. But what captured Anna were her eyes—eyes the color of topaz—large, the lashes thick.

Guess she’s our love interest for the evening.

Ariadne is from India, and was adopted by the Inquisitor after her parents died in a demon attack. She’s also involved in politics, even if her politics make no sense to me as she argues against a Shadowhunter currency…

“Shadowhunters are an international group. We must blend seamlessly with many international economies. Having our own currency would be a disaster.”

Like, it makes sense to use local currencies in the Institutes, but…what about Idris? What currency do they use there? Wouldn’t it make sense to pick a standard to trade in in your own country? Or do you just not need money in Idris? Is it a communist utopia where everything is free? Now that I think about it, I remember Clary getting weapons from a blacksmith in Idris, but I don’t remember her paying for it.

Anyway, back to Ariadne. She’s also very hot, hot enough for even Christopher to notice. If this seems like setup for something…it’s not. The book literally uses Christopher’s obliviousness as a way to highlight how hot Ariadne is. There’s a lot of purple prose about how hot Ariadne is. Plus some fantasizing on Anna’s part, who thinks Ariadne might be requiting her attraction, but isn’t sure if it’s her gaydar or her please-be-gaydar. And that’s pretty relatable, if I do say so myself.

After dinner, Ariadne shows Anna the library alone, just long enough to establish that Ariadne, in fact, is probably interested.

“I am modern and possessed of all sorts of advanced notions.” […] “Your brother’s eyes are quite extraordinary,” Ariadne noted. Anna heard this a good deal. Christopher’s eyes were lavender in color. “Yes,” Anna said. “He’s the good-looking one in the family.” “I quite disagree!” Ariadne exclaimed, looking surprised. “Gentlemen must compliment you all the time on the shade of your eyes.”

She also asks Anna to be her training partner, because she’s very late on combat training, and absolutely flirts with Anna in the process.

“You may find me clumsy.” Ariadne twisted her hands together. […] “You will have to be delicate with me, then,” Ariadne said, very softly.

The parents come in before this can go anywhere, and we soon cut to the Lightwoods on their ride home. It’s a fairly cute family moment, but there’s also a meaningful moment of Cecily asking her daughter what she thought of Ariadne.

And this is where I skip forward a little, because it turns out, most of the kids of Anna’s generations know about her being attracted to girls. So the conflict here seems to be mostly about whether her own parents know and what they’d think of it. But since it’s not brought up again until the very end (which I somewhat spoiled already), you can guess how tenuous this conflict is. Good thing we have a love interest to spice things up, right?

But first, this is where Brother Zachariah comes into play, as he’s still in the London Shadow Market. And yes, that includes referencing the previous story.

Tonight, he also glanced around to see if he spotted the vendor he had seen on one of his previous visits. […] She sold colorful potions, and Matthew Fairchild had purchased one and given it to his mother. It had taken all of Jem’s efforts to bring Charlotte back from death’s door. She had not been the same since, nor had Matthew.

I’m glad you’re finally acknowledging Charlotte’s grief…in a story where she’s not even present, and in a man’s point of view. Yeah, that’s a good way to treat your female character.

We also learn that Jem’s mission for Ragnor, which I’d assumed last night was looking for a cure for himself, is actually something else. He’s looking for the demon who sired Tessa, because now that her kids are manifesting powers of their own, she’s hoping that knowing the demon she’s descended from might help her…I don’t know, figure shit out.

Ragnor has made no progress, though. Oh, à propos of nothing, Jem also runs into Malcolm Fade, along with another warlock named Leopolda Stain. Who I’m sure is totally not a villain, by virtue of being friends with the villain from Lady Midnight. I mean, that’d just be ridic—

“Leopolda is a bit of an odd one,” Malcolm said. […] “She is … […] more connected, I suppose, to her demon side than her human side than most of us are.”

Yeah, no, she’s our villain for the evening.

But for now, let’s check back with Anna, who’s fixing the clothes she took from Christopher.

Anna was not a natural seamstress, but like all Shadowhunters, she possessed the basic skills to repair gear.

You…didn’t really need to justify that, but okay, I guess. If mentioning this may empower you.

While doing so, she muses about how differently people treat her when she’s wearing dresses compared to her wearing men’s clothes, which she’s only done twice so far. I’d say it doesn’t sound very statistically significant, but also I’m fairly sure it’s mostly hyperbolic on purpose.

[Women] looked at her soft lips, her long eyelashes, her blue eyes; they looked at her hips in tight trousers, the curve of her breasts under a man’s cotton shirt, and their eyes spoke to her in the secret language of women: You have taken their power for your own. You have stolen fire from the gods. Now come and make love to me, as Zeus made love to Danae, in a shower of gold.

I mean, maybe there is a secret language of women and this is how they all talk to each other in that language. I obviously wouldn’t know. But it does sound pretty hyperbolic to me.

Ariadne goes to visit her cousins at Gideon and Sophie’s house, mostly to stop angsting about Ariadne. This allows us to introduce Anna’s relationship to the other kids. By which I mean mostly just mention how hot James Herondale is, like all Herondale men.

Anna loved all of her cousins, but she had a very soft spot for James. He had been a somewhat awkward young boy, gentle and quiet and bookish. He had grown up into a young man Anna could see was extraordinarily handsome, like his father.

She tells them about Ariadne, but only as a potential training partner, but she seems to be mostly here to make plans with Matthew. And if there’s a surefire way to make my mood go sour, it’s Matthew Fairchild.

He and Anna often spoke of gentlemen’s fashion together, but today Anna noticed that his hair was a bit wild, and one of the buttons on his waistcoat was undone. These were small things, to be sure, but on Matthew, they spoke of something larger.

Oh no, the poor guy caused his mom to have a miscarriage because he was too dumb to just talk to her! Weep for him and his angst!

I swear I’m not going to harp on this too much. Although I will note now, before the rest of the plot unfolds, that Matthew is also responsible for the bad shit that will unfold in the rest of the story. Well, most of it, anyway. Because fuck Matthew Fairchild.

Specifically, he suggests to Anna that they go out to a place in “a nefarious corner of Soho” at night, and that she’ll have to put on a disguise to go. Needless to say, she takes the opportunity to dress with Christopher’s clothes. And because Matthew is a great friend, he shows up already drunk when they meet.

He had been like this a lot in recent weeks—what was fun and light about Matthew had taken on an edge. On some level, she felt a bit of worry rising.

This is no cute, this does not inspire sympathy, and to be fair, Anna’s absence of reaction beyond “a bit of worry” doesn’t make her look much better.

Anyway. The place is a…club? I think? Frequented by mundanes and Downworlders, including Woolsey Scott (who everyone knows is the head of the Praetor Lupus, you know, that oh-so-secret organization that the TMI cast wasn’t sure was real at all) and Yeats (because real people). And Leopolda Stain, because duh.

Oh, and creepy cultists, too.

Next to them was a woman wearing a gold turban scarf pinned with a sapphire. “Are you two of The Chosen?” she asked Matthew and Anna. […] “[Leopolda]’s going to help us,” the woman said. “Obviously, we’ve had such troubles here. Why, Crowley wasn’t even recognized here in London! He had to go to the Ahathoor Temple in Paris to be initiated to the grade of Adeptus Minor, which I’m sure you heard about.” […] “I was an Adept of the Isis-Urania temple, and I can assure you that I was adamant that—”

I guess Matthew didn’t learn anything from the previous story after all, because not only is this not alarming to either of them, but Matthew actually acts like he and Anna are also part of her cult, and she invites them to a private ceremony the next week.

“The faithful will be rewarded, I promise you. The ancient ones, so long hidden from us, shall be revealed.” “Of course,” Anna said, blinking. “Yes. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” While she was simply making conversation, Anna found that she would like to return to this place.

As Matthew and Anna leave, we cut to Jem, who’s just…watching them leave the house and thinking about how much Anna reminds him of Will. And then we cut to one week later, when Ariadne randomly shows up at the Lightwood house to ask Anna to train with her, after not talking to her the entire time. The training scene itself is mostly just Anna being too gay to function, and noting that Ariadne is in fact not that great at fighting, and ends with Anna inviting Ariadne to come with her that night to the house where the creepy cultist invited her to come back. I guess she didn’t pick up on the creepy cultist vibe.

So Anna dresses up like a man again that night, goes pick up Ariadne at her house (she’s wearing a dress, because I guess we have to keep the butch/femme dichotomy)…and they get stopped at the door by the bouncer. Ariadne’s reaction?

“Now I am curious,” Ariadne said. “We must go in, don’t you think?”

They climb up a drainpipe to the roof, and suddenly Ariadne is showing a lot more skill than she did during training. And when they get inside, they find Leopolda summoning a bunch of demons and sicking them on the human cultists. The girls engage in combat, and Jem shows up as well, since he was obviously tailing Leopolda since they met in the Shadow Market. Also, Ariadne fights with an electrum whip, which…is notable for some reason, although I’m not sure what that reason is, because the story never explains it. Same with how Ariadne can suddenly fight at all. Maybe she was just faking to get an excuse to get close to Anna?

Wait, I’m getting ahead of myself again. During the fight, they manage to contain the demons, but Anna gets wounded. Jem wants to heal her, but Ariadne says she learned healing techniques from the Silent Brothers herself, and she offers to take care of Anna while Jem goes after Leopolda. Jem…does, in spite of having no idea who Ariadne is. Luckily, it’s true, and Ariadne takes Anna back to her home and heals her. Also, some romantic tension…

Throughout all of this, Anna was silent, breathless. She did not feel pain. She felt only Ariadne’s careful hands on her.

…and resolution.

“I would like to kiss you,” Ariadne said. […] “Please, Anna, may I kiss you?” Unable to speak, Anna nodded.

They kiss, and Anna in fact spends the night here, mostly because she’s too weak to leave. It’s not made explicit if they have sex, and I don’t think it really matters.

Before we cut to morning, I do have to check back with Jem, though, since this is also where his involvement in the story ends. Remember how he was looking for Tessa’s demon dad? Yeah, turns out Leopola 1) knows about this in spite of it supposedly being a secret and 2) claims she knows who it is, and will reveal it to Jem in exchange for Shadowhunter blood. Jem is at least smart enough to say “that sounds like an evil plan, so, no.”

Actually, he’s even smarter than that. This exchange happens before Anna gets wounded, so after that, he goes after Leopolda. But he’s not actually on his own: turns out he had Woolsey Scott and the Praetor Lupus on alert as well, since Leopolda’s actions revealed the Shadow World to humans, which could be detrimental to all Downworlders. So we return to Jem meeting Scott at his home, and sure enough, he has Leopolda in custody.

She reiterates her bargain, but Jem’s not swayed. Apparently, her request for Shadowhunter blood is only so she can continue Mortmain’s work…somehow. And he won’t allow that.

Her lip curled. “But you are kind,” she said. "You are famous for it. You will not hurt me. […] That was my Shadowhunter self, he said. I have killed with this staff, though I prefer not to. Either you tell me what I wish to know, or you die. It is your choice.

She tells him Tessa’s father is a Greater Demon—a Prince of Hell, in fact—and “the greatest of Eidolon demons”. Didn’t we already know that? I don’t feel like re-reading all of my TID recaps, but it sounds like something we already knew. She won’t tell Jem the demon’s actual name, though, and so Jem…lets Scott’s werewolves kill her. Admittedly, she did try to fight her way out of here, but that still feels very…um…

Leopolda screamed and whirled on Jem, wide-eyed. “You said you would let me leave! You swore!” Jem felt very weary. I am not the one who is stopping you.

It feels villainous is what it feels like. “Oh, sure, I swore to let you walk free, but the werewolves, whom I had come here on purpose, didn’t!”

So Leopolda is dead, and this whole subplot was essentially useless to this story, so I assume this is going to be our “main” story thread uniting all the short stories? Only took three stories to get to it.

Let’s wrap up with Anna, shall we? She leaves Ariadne’s house early in the morning before anyone can spot her, but she’s giddy because…you know. Gay love. Except when she goes to visit Ariadne officially later that day (after catching some sleep), guess who’s visiting but Charles Fairchild. You know, Matthew’s older brother, who was born during TID? Well, he’s our random eleventh-hour drama for the night.

See, he’s just been named interim head of the Paris Institute for a year, and he’s the Consul’s son. In other words, he’s a perfect match, and Inquisitor Bridgestock wants to marry Ariadne to him. Anna is immediately shocked by this, because she lives in Edwardian England but is baffled by the concept of political marriages, I guess.

“Charles is quite a good match,” Ariadne said as if she were discussing the quality of a piece of cloth.

Ariadne’s argument boils down to “I don’t love him since I’m a lesbian, but I do want to be a mom”. Also, she refuses to come out because she’s adopted and fears her parents would reject her. Her offer is to have a secret relationship with Anna for a year, after which they’ll be over because she won’t cheat on Charles after they’re married.

Anna is not interested. Which, fair enough.

“Good-bye, Ariadne,” she managed, and staggered from the room.

She goes home to cry, Christopher tries to comfort her in his own awkward way, as does Cecily (minus the awkward part…I think).

“She broke your heart, didn’t she? Ariadne?” Anna was speechless. So her mother did know.

So…yeah. Cecily knew, and she’s fine with it.

“Mama,” she said. “You do not mind—that I might not get married, or have children?” "There are many Shadowhunter children orphaned, as Ariadne was, seeking loving homes, and I see no reason why you might not provide one someday. […] As “for marriage …” Cecily shrugged. “They said your Uncle Will could not be with your Aunt Tessa, that your Aunt Sophie and Uncle Gideon could not be together. […] Even where laws are unjust, hearts can find a way to be together. If you love someone, I have no doubt you will find a way to spend your life with them, Anna.”

She also knew about Anna crossdressing, and she’s fine with that too, going so far as to give her a specially tailored suit for her. So did Gabriel, as it turns out when Anna puts the suit on and joins the rest of her family for a walk in the park.

Of course, this begs the question: why now? If Cecily and Gabriel knew, why did they buy Anna dresses and decorate her room in a girly way that she hates? And if they had that suit, why wait for the most dramatic time to reveal it? Well, it doesn’t matter, because that’s not the point, I guess.

“I have always known you, my love,” Cecily said.

And…I mean, I’m sure this is empowering to someone who will read this. I personally feel like narratives where the parents (or other closed ones) already knew and were fine with it, while they certainly reflect a truth, really should be toned down at this point. Most queer people’s families don’t know, and don’t react positively to the announcement. But hey, I guess this is fiction, and it is a fantasy, and there are worse fantasies out there.

So Anna puts on her suit, and cuts her hair short, and she’s a new person. Oh, and Cecily also gives her the family necklace. Well, it’s not a family necklace yet at this point in the timeline, but…you know, the necklace that detects demons? Yeah, that one. I’m not sure why it’s there except to remind readers of a thing in the rest of the series, but it sure is there.

That was Every Exquisite Thing. As I said in my intro, it’s mostly okay, honestly. The Jem stuff feels even more extraneous as before, and I’m back to feeling like Anna’s story could have just been alluded to in her own books and left up for fans to actually write about, but it’s not the worst thing out there. And that’s really all I have to say about this.

#every exquisite thing #cassandra clare #maureen johnson #ghosts of the shadow market #young adult #ya books #books #young adult books #book reviews #ya #reviews #book #book review #review #st: ghosts of the shadow market

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purkinje-effect · 7 years ago

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The Purkinje Effect, 27

Table of Contents

A few days later, for most of the afternoon Geek toiled over KL-E-O’s workbench, with a cigarette hanging from his mouth. With the belt sander, he sharpened his latest project. His wrench-shiv served as a reverse tang of sorts, atop which he practiced controlling his metallic sweat, building up its blade with whatever his palms would excrete. Occasionally, he would lick his fingers, or the knife directly, to slick down the material into curves. What flowed readily seemed mostly lead and tin, and the approximation of his sweeping, jagged work of art to solder was not lost to his amusement, as he smoothed and added, smoothed and added, time and again picking at it until he felt less dissatisfied than before. The piece ended up something between a machete and a karambit, but both the heft and functional shapes pleased him. A series of stylized keyholes trailed the center, and a pair of exaggerated false edges swept both the tip and base of the spine of the blade. He wondered whether he could control the concentrations of the alloys that his pores eliminated, by means besides mitigating his diet.

The sickle-like curvature of the false edges evoked the notion of Cronus. Lead was associated with Saturn, wasn’t it? Classical mythology had filled one of the books in his collection at the vault. It was decorum, to name a blade such as this, a testament that he could weaponize the trauma and from it forge constructive artifacts. Alchemy, he mused to himself. He’d have to futz with his knuckles, if Cronus could prove itself.

Kill or Be Killed had an open store front right on the plaza. As the pink ghoul honed the forming weapon, he noticed across the way in his peripheral, someone come through the one entry into Goodneighbor: a Mister Handy with a ton of wrong parts. He stopped working to watch, absently intrigued as the pale blue hovering mishmash of robotics paused in the plaza, only to zip down the alley.

“That--”

Geek wrapped up his mostly-finished project in a piece of canvas and tucked it in a thigh pocket, to sprint out after the robot. Somebody had been riding on the domed back of that robot. He hadn’t gotten a good look at the dreg, but he didn’t have to, to know they fit the description.

Did he really manage it? Geek thought to himself, scanning the once Scollay Square to tail the robot-riding idiot. Anybody smart enough would’a taken the chance to skip town without wearin’ Hancock’s crosshairs. Why the hell would he come back?

The Neighborhood Watch ghouls on duty at the front face of the Third Rail noticed Geek’s demeanor and gestured at the double doors with their rifles. He nodded with a slouch and jogged in. Ham, the ghoul bouncer in a black pinstripe suit, started to say something to him, but he patted Ham on the shoulder without stopping on his way down the stairs to the subway loading platform that had transformed into the settlement’s illustrious bar. Now that he knew what Jet smelled like, he recognized the previous elusive sweet-stink to the humid atmosphere down here.

A quick skim of the main hall yielded nothing. Losing interest, he approached Charlie for a drink.

“Ah, it’s you again. Gotta thank you again for taking care of that rat problem before. Sure you’re interested t’hear I’ve added the mineral variety to the spirits I pour out.”

“Very.” He doused a few caps on the counter while the Handy reached under the counter to produce the requested tin of turpentine.

“You might also like t’hear the mayor’s in the VIP Lounge at the moment. Something about a private meetin’.” Charlie began to polish at a glass with its pincer-tipped tentacle-limbs. “Seemed like you were followin’ somebody when you first came in, and the timing suggests to me he’s your man.”

Geek sprinkled a few more caps where the first dozen or so had been, as gratuity, and patted at the counter with endearment.

“Exactly what I needed, Charlie. Thanks.”

He took the tin with him to the back room, strung with cage lights, and eavesdropped on the meeting from the corridor that led into the lounge itself. The pale blue Handy idled at one end of the room, while the vault dweller sat on a couch at the far wall, fidgeting with a cane in his lap. Though he couldn’t see around the corner, he could hear that Hancock and Fahrenheit sat opposite the dweller. Yeah, he had a Pipboy, too--but was it his? This frail guy looked in his forties, huge round white-rim glasses, had an undershaven black ponytail that had half-fallen into his face, and wore a tailored single-breasted off-white suit. There seemed to be a high white leather gorget with dark seams beneath the cream dress shirt--no, it was medical gear. It all made sense now. The braces, the cane... and his Frankenstein of a Handy. It doubled as a wheelchair, didn’t it?

“--And you’re lucky I didn’t die,” Fahrenheit seethed. “Still stiff as fuck.”

“I-- I am,” the dreg stuttered out. “I panicked. When I came to town, I didn’t know who to trust, and when it came out Bobbi had played me an’ Mel. I couldn’t make sense of the situation in the moment. Makin’ it look like I’d greased you an’ your guards was the only way I thought I could get away with not killing anybody.” He bit at his lower lip and stared at his Handy as it floated there. “I don’t regret having to take care of Bobbi like that, but I sure am glad I didn’t have to get rid of Mel. He didn’t know who he was working a job on any more than I did.”

Listening to the guy nagged at Geek. It had been carefully groomed over time, but that was unmistakably a Russian accent.

“And what of the caps we negotiated, hm?”

The guy flinched at Hancock’s threat-loaded question.

“Can’t we-- work something else out?”

“Reading my mind. Finn in the dirt, and Bobbi written off, I’m lacking brawn and brains. You were crafty enough to swindle me, and resourceful enough to adjust the playing field in real time--quickly--to compensate for... mistakes. That sounds like the makings of an idea man. Definitely the kind of Nimrod I want even closer, if you catch my meaning.”

Geek spat out a mouthful of spirits. Knowing he’d given himself away, he walked in. Hancock patted at the free spot of the couch beside him opposite Fahr, both of whom were relieved to see it was just him. The mayor threw his arms around both of them once Geek sat.

“Just the ghoul I wanted to see.”

“You gotta be kidding me, Hancock,” he started, taking a fresh swig of turpentine as he gawked back and forth between the dreg and his boyfriend. “This guy blew up your strongroom and drained it dry, and he damn near killed Fahr. An’ ain’t it his fault Finn’s dead?”

Shaken beyond composure, the dreg produced a flask from his waistcoat pocket, and took after Geek. Though the jamjar lenses obscured the exact way he was looking at the pink ghoul, he was sure he could tell exactly what the dreg was thinking. Everyone always reacted badly to his complexion.

“Melancholy, this is Geek. Geek, Melancholy.”

Hancock stopped picking at his fingernails with his hunting knife and pulled out two cigarettes. The ghoul briefly borrowed Fahr’s cigar to stoke them off the cherry before handing it back, then offered Geek one while he took the other for himself. Geek stared, displeased, at this Melancholy dreg and, without breaking eye contact, swallowed his turpentine cap before taking the smoke from Hancock. ‘Choly straightened and tried to stifle an awkward chuckle, the corner of his mouth twitching.

“The pleasure’s all his, I’m sure,” Geek said.

“Oh. Ohh, it is.” ‘Choly sniffed, pushing his glasses up his nose. “I assure you, it is.” Geek’s face soured at this.

“...Ain’t about t’tell you how t’run y’town, but you trust this loon after what he did?”

“I trust the Mayor’s judgment on this, long as 'Choly keeps that damn bloatfly gun holstered in town.” Fahr snarled in disgust, and put out her well-chewed cigar on the arm of the couch before flicking the butt across the room into the cardboard box in the corner. “Never want to see anything like that again in my life. Still having nightmares. Gonna have nightmares for weeks.”

‘Choly couldn’t help but smile and murmur in sly reminiscent pride.

“I-- am not gonna ask.” Geek rubbed at his forehead a minute with his smoke hand, already wearing conversational exhaustion on his face. “Y’wanted t’see me, though?”

“Sure you heard most of our conversation up to now,” Hancock mumbled warmly, pulling him closer by the shoulder. “I’m filling recently... vacated positions. If he’s the brains, you’d certainly make great brawn, love.”

Geek slipped out of the mayor’s arm and sat next to ‘Choly, and squeezed his knee with sustained eye contact. He noted that he could feel the hinges of leg braces, as he’d suspected, beneath the slacks. Up close, he could see white splotches mottled the right side of the dreg’s face, and a scar slashed his lower lip.

“What vault you say you was from again?”

‘Choly pushed Geek’s hand off his knee with both hands, squirming in discomfort, then looked back up at him and clasped his cane firmly.

“I-- I’m from Concord. One-eleven. Why?”

The cigarette twitched in Geek’s lips.

“It’s just I don’t get it. Who fucked up and let a Commie in a vault?” ‘Choly wrung at his cane, put on the spot. “Who’d you kill for that Pipboy, mh?”

‘Choly stared at him from over the top of his glasses, cataracted eyes glazed and jaundiced.

“--I could ask you the same thing, you... you pink Plymouth. You’re from a functional vault, I’m guessing?”

Geek swallowed his lit cigarette, incredulous, and barely kept himself from decking the dreg.

“Gentlemen!” the Handy interjected, unnerved. “There’s no use in being contrary. Isn’t that right, Sir?”

“It’s all right, Angel.” Indignity softening, he looked Geek up and down as he adjusted his glasses again, more for emphasis than need. “He’s easy on the eyes, even if his belfry’s not all in order.”

“Now--” Hancock bolted up before he crossed his arms and cooled himself into a chuckle. “Geek’s one thing you aren’t gonna get away with stealing from me.”

Geek sputtered a laugh and leaned onto his knees, cradling his face into one hand. ‘Choly glanced between them, overtaken by a deep flush. Fahr rolled her eyes, and decided to kick her feet up across the couch since Hancock had begun to pace.

“If you’re interested in sticking around town, you might do well to go speak to Clair in the Rexford,” the mayor urged. “All I’m asking is you think about my proposition, ‘Choly.”

“Oh, he’ll proposition you,” Fahr grunted. “Damn sleaze.”

‘Choly ignored her and looked expectantly to Hancock.

“So you’re... you’re not running me out of town, then?”

“Long as you’re good for business, rather than disrupting it.” The mayor grinned. “Fred tells me you make some mean Mentats. Gonna have to prove it.”

“I, yes. Definitely. Definitely!” ‘Choly put up his flask and patted his chest where he’d put it, then leveraged his cane to stand. Approaching Hancock, he offered a gloved handshake and took the mayor’s in both of his. “Let me sleep on it, Mayor. I’ll... I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

“All right, now.” Hancock grinned and patted him on the shoulder with his free hand. “Shoo. Mingle. And try not to put both feet in your mouth?”

As 'Choly and his Handy exited shrewdly, the sound of his cane-gait shadowed their departure. Hancock walked over to Geek, who’d stood with the transparent intent to follow the newcomer again.

“Y’really trust a Red to finance Goodneighbor?” Geek asked him, the three of them leaving the lounge as well. “A Red who ripped you off?”

“It’s been two centuries since one’s nationality was a reliable measure of their credibility, Geek. My sources tell me that lil’ Ruski dismantled an entire raider operation just a few months back. The survivors aren’t even confident they’ve got an accurate account of what happened, it happened so fast. He might not look like anything, but he’s a whip.” Hancock glanced to him with a stern pleasantry. “Nobody’s stoppin’ ya from keeping an eye on him, if your gut feeling is strong. But try not to run him off before he gives me his answer, okay?”

The pink ghoul finished off his turpentine, and watched as ‘Choly mounted the cloth stirrups of his Handy, and the two scaled the stairs and vanished rounding up to street level.

“You bet your ass I’m keepin’ my eye on him.”

#fallout 4 #fallout 4 fanfic #fo4 fanfic #fo4 oc #fallout 4 oc #the purkinje effect #purkinje effect #geek #hancock #sole survivor #melancholy #fahrenheit #cronus is in between a disciples cutlass and kremvh's tooth. it adds lead poison damage for its legendary #with all this talk of lead and saturnism we're gonna lampshade that geek's real name is galen

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