trans_9 | Getting by on handouts [Open]

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Getting by on handouts [Open]

It seemed weird to think about it, but ever since arriving on the Meatship, Will hadn't really spent any time just...working. He'd taken the time to walk around, he'd met people, given some good advice (and lots of bad), tried to do well by people, but he hadn't taken the time to do what he did best; relax.

It was odd that even with the threat of dreams looming over them all, people were still...functioning; their worlds were dead, they were being driven into a war, and they had next to nothing, but they kept going. They weren't in the best moods, their tension had all gone through the roof, but they were surviving. And it was time for him to do his big as well.

He found a nice spot in the middle of the city park and sat down with his back against a large fountain with his guitar across his legs. He'd played a little, but not enough. This was who he was more than his powers. He may have been told he had a destiny in the celestial war, and he'd also been told he was to fight for all the multiverse against...whatever they were, but this was his real calling; busking.

It was a quick few minutes tuning up Ria, his old sixstring, before he set his hat down in front of him (habit more than anything, that) and began to pluck out a tune he'd known for years and always found appealing. After a minute or two to warm up, he began to sing a bit as well, lost in his own little world.

"Travailler c'est trop dur
et voler c'est pas beau
d'mander la charité
c'est qu'que chose j'peux pas faire
chaque jour que moi je vis
on m' demande de quoi je vis
j' dis que j' vis sur l'amour
et j'espère de viv' vieux.

Work's too bloody hard,
stealing isn't pretty.
Getting by on handouts
means getting by on pity.
Every day of my life
someone asks how I'll get by,
I say I'll live on love
and I hope to never die.

I’ll pick up this old box
run my fingers down the row.
I’ll play a tune or two
let the dancers come and go.
For this life’s too sweet and short
to leave it sad my friend
There’s no time for tears and sorrow,
let’s go dancing to our end.

Work's too bloody hard,
stealing isn't pretty.
Getting by on handouts
means getting by on pity.
Every day of my life
someone asks how I'll get by,
I say I'll live on love
and I hope to never die.

If I end up playing gigs
every night and every day,
any pub or any club
that will let me sing away.
I might think to myself
is this what i want to do
but I think I know the answer
when I sing and I look at you.

Work's too bloody hard,
stealing isn't pretty.
Getting by on handouts
means getting by on pity.
Every day of my life
someone asks how I'll get by,
I say I'll live on love
and I hope to never die."

He stopped playing after the song and took a long sigh. He smiled, his mind back where it belonged, and began to play again.

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"We're a year apart in age," she murmured almost absently. "He got Da's love of tinkering, I guess. Gessu is very loud. I've been told I'm...mentally loud, but Gessu is always banging and shoving and oblivious to people who like quiet. My brother's probably about your height, thin, too, you'd think he didn't eat at all though he generally puts away the most stew." The faintest of smiles tugged at her lips. "Like me, he's got white hair, but his eyes are a hazy sort of emerald like my mother's were, not gold like mine. I...don't remember her. She died of the creeping sickness soon after I was born. Gessu and I have always been close. We grew up taking care of each other, especially when Da disappeared. I was ten, Gessu eleven, and we woke up to the barn on fire and no sign of Da. He was just gone. From then on, we stayed with an uncle for a few years and then cleaned up the farm and did what we could to make a living from it."

Kala let out a soft sigh.

"He's a good man, my brother. And he tries to do right by people. He got a Versity school for tinkers in Thaldis, last I heard. I was off world when he got accepted and couldn't request time off to attend his entrance. He got a communication device the last time I was able to get away from my studies, so we talk as often as we can. Gessu's got a gift with metal things, broken things. He...he fixes them good as new, sometimes better."

"He sounds nice. I've never really had any family, so I can only imagine what it must be like to be so cut off from someone... I'm sorry." He put his hand on her arm to try and comfort her. There wasn't really anything else he could say on the subject.

"You should have family," Kala said softly, covering his hand with her own cool one. "Family makes you stronger. Much stronger. People can be family even if they aren't really related. I guess. I guess Farla was family in that way. I always thought maybe she was a little crazy, but now that I know her story, I guess I'd go a little daft, too. But it's okay."

It was okay.

"Even if my brother is gone," she said in a slightly strained voice. "Even if I never see him again, we're still connected. We're still part of each other."

The difference in their ideological upbringings was obvious; where she had been embraced by family and built a personal support group, Blin hadn't had the chance to rely on anyone until he was a teen, and by then he'd already gotten a good hand on life. Still there has been people here and there who'd helped him survive, helped him get by... Jacob, Kite, Tal, Ronin... he did have them.

"There were a few people I relied on, a few people I've called family from time to time. But those bonds are different. There's family you choose, and family you're born with. The man I call my father, Jacob... I didn't meet him until I was fifteen. I consider Ronin my brother, and we've only know each other a few years. But that's the rub of it.. after ye've gone through hell together, ye come out as brothers. It's not the same, though." He was quiet for a second.

"I know, if ever I was in trouble, Ronin would have been there in a flash to help me. Just as I was for him. But that doesn't make us blood."

"If they care about you," Kala murmured, curling her fingers against his hand, "then they're family. If they'd give anything to make sure you're safe...then that's what they ought to be called. No one can ever replace people like that. I know people who hate their blood family as much as can be hated, but have friends they laugh and love like they were born to them. I was lucky to be born into what I was, even if...even if my Da disappeared. Someone should always have someone else to count on. It ought to be a rule."

Blin smiled softly. "I'll be sure te bring it up at during my next performance review with God."

The sad part is, he's not joking.

"...you have a god that gives reviews?" Kala asked, boggling for a long moment. "I never thought there was anything like that ever. We have a Creator, but she's quiet. Legends say she took a vow of silence when the world turned to fire in the Age of Burning."

"Mm, well, it depends on just what religion ye fancy yerself on my world, but generally, God doesn't talk te people. Unless they've got the gift. We're special. The maker gives us our powers, but no instruction manual to go with 'em. Supposedly, all o' us with powers are te be his soldiers in some cosmic disaster, but a few of us, like meself, were earmarked as guides. It's our job te find and help train up the other powers, make 'em ready for the war."

he pauses.

"I've spoken to 'im three times; once when my powers activated, once when I died, and once just so he could tell me I'm not a total bloody failure."

"You died?" Kala stared at him for a long moment, her hand tightening against his. She didn't like the thought of anyone dying at all. She was around to make sure people didn't get killed. Kala was quiet for awhile, a long while.

"It was nice of your god to tell you weren't a failure." Her voice was softer for a moment. "I don't think you're a failure, no matter what. If you're someone who helps train other people, then there's a reason for you to be here. Maybe your god sent you here to help people be ready for this war. Besides. You have a gift for music and playing that stringed thing. And you have made me smile with it."

"Aye, I died once. Against a guy who called himself Onslaught. Not everyone who develops powers has the... mental fortitude to use 'em right." He rolled up the sleeves of his plansuit and showed her the scars covering his arms.

"The guy was raw power... Ronin tossed a power line around him, and I siphoned all his power out through one hand and sent it back with the other. That much energy not only killed me, but cost me the ability to use me hands for a good year. Sadly, that incident is what convinced the Maker to let there be a group of guides."

Blin laughed at her next comment and squeezed her hand. "I'm glad I could be here, then. Ye look much better with a smile on yer face."

...said the blind man...

Kala went very still for a moment, all the response she could manage to that, and brushed her cool fingertips over his scars for a long while as he explained. That didn't sound like a particularly good way to go. It sounded painful, more painful than she could imagine. But good had come from it. She leaned to peer at him.

"I'm glad you are, too," she said quietly. "And how do you know I look any better with a smile than without?" It wasn't accusatory, but curious. Because for all she knew, he had a different way of seeing things. After all, they were from different universes. And he did make her smile, just a little, just at the corners of her lips.

"What, just because I'm blind ye think I can't see?" He laughed again. "Well, ye'd be right. 'Til I got my powers, I had one hundred percent no vision. But, one of the functions of my powers, the whole reason they work, is that I can see two things: Energies and emotions. Every type of energy looks different, as does every emotion. Just because I can't see your smile doesn't mean I don't know it's there. And believe me, when you smile, it's a beautiful thing."

It was a bit of flattery, but it wasn't wrong. The way she bottled up her emotions, when one leaked out, the other leaked a bit with it. It was like a rainbow just trying to break free.

"That's wonderful!" Kala said and that got a real smile, the bright kind she generally squished because it came with a swirl of wind, which it did now, unfailing as ever. High emotions meant high reactions and she was never sure how much real control she had. It was anger that frightened her the most, though. Anger was destructive and she'd never been happy enough to know what that did.

"It's a present, then," she said. "Your...powers. And I like that you can see a smile like that."

"I wish I could explain it better, but, ye work with what ye've got, and I lack visual discriptors." He shrugged. "I'd definitely call it a gift. If it weren't for my powers, not only would I be back to a total blind lifestyle, but I doubt I'd be here. And frankly, I'm really starting to like it here. Can't imagine how long I'd have lasted without my powers."

"I...think I like it here too," she said after a long while of thinking it over. "Even if it means that I might have lost my entire universe. Maybe it's selfish, but...I've met lots of really nice people since I woke up."

"Guess that means I should probably do something to help 'em out, huh? Seein' as we've both gotten attached to the place, best to keep it around." He sighed, deeply. "School's back in session, then."

"It's a good thing," Kala said in a soft voice, absently smoothing her fingertips across his knuckles. "You can help make people stronger. Not everyone can do that. The only thing I seem to be able to do is blow things up and shield. But I'm trying to learn to be a Paldin and use a sword. I'm not very good in close range combat. It's really easy to take me down. I've been almost killed just because of that."

"I can probably help you with that a bit as well, if you'd like. I'm pretty good at close range... My cane's built for it specifically. Anyway, not the point. I can teach people to handle themselves, but it's not easy. Very rarely do people truly want to learn. 'You can lead a horse to water' and all that. It's people like you, the guys on the front lines, you're the ones who really make a difference."

"If it'll make me able to make sure no one dies," Kala said and stopped sharply for a moment as her voice choked off. "I'll do anything. Anything. Learn anything. Train as hard as possible. I'll do it." So people like Farla would never die like that. Never again. "I have to be stronger and better. I have to."

"Hey, Kala." Blin shook her a bit to keep her grounded. "Stay here 'n now, lass. No one is gonna die." This girl had more mood swings than Carters had liver pills. It was a roller coaster ride of comfort and counseling. "We aren't going to let them. Together. Ye aren't fighting alone anymore."

She forgot. Sometimes she still forgot that she wasn't alone. Maybe it had only been three years, but it felt like yesterday. Her hands closed over Mister Barlow's wrists and she forced herself to stay in the moment. It was tough, still. It was tough to do that. To stay still when she wasn't focused on...something else.

"People die," she said. "People die when you aren't strong enough. I've watched it. I've killed them because of it." Her grip tightened and she shivered lightly. "I've killed people because I lost control, because I wasn't strong enough to stop the--" She shook her head. "It doesn't matter. It's not now. And it's now that matters. Right now. And you're right, I'm not alone. We can fight."

People are stronger together.

Blin was quiet for a few minutes before he spoke, while he was gathering his thoughts. When he did finally say something, it was barely above a whisper.

"Ye aren't the only one with blood on yer hands. I'm personally responsible for over five thousand deaths. Some because I had to stop them from blowing up themselves, but most... 4,894 were killed by my hands. And it could have been even worse. But I'm better now. You are better now. Because we have to be. People are relying on us just as we rely on them."

Kala leaned forward until her forehead brushed his shoulder. There wasn't a gafting thing she could say, not really. She swore she'd get better, that she'd learn control, that she'd protect people--everyone--from whatever was there to hurt others. She hadn't killed that many people. But it numbered in the hundreds and it was enough. Killing one person was enough.

"...better now," she mumbled. "Best...can do...to make up for it. S'protect, help." It came out all muffled and stupid and-- Whatever. He'd understand, somehow.

"Aye, it is." He sighed heavily and set down the guitar next to him. "We improve te serve their memory and prevent it from ever happenin' again." He patted her head and shifted to get up. "Hand me me hat and we can get started, if ye like."

Kala wordlessly pulled away to grab his hat, which she solemnly handed him before shoving herself up. While she was still sleepy, she wasn't going to say not to getting started on something. Besides, he was right.

"I'm ready," she said quietly. "But I've been ready for a long time. I just didn't know where to walk."

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