Five Things Go Wrong: Airship Adventures (KizKiz+Vailyn)

[kizkiz]

Five things go wrong, then The End Ch. 01

Neal grinned at the other two men across from him. "Read them and weep gentlemen." With a flick of two long fingers, he casually tossed first one, then two, then three jacks on the table top. "Oh, here they are," he raised the two remaining cards and tipped them towards a table that had been distracting him the whole night. A red haired beauty and brunette had been huddled together, thick as thieves, sipping the sweetest drink's he'd ever seen. "My two ladies." He flicked the queen of hearts followed by the queen of spades.

"You son-of-a-bitch," George Carmikle, a thick, gnarled man said. "You cheated, you-"

The red head, who didn't know of Jez the Blood Queen? Of course everyone at his poker table turned as she hopped on top of her table. Her voice was soft and ruff at the same time. There wasn't a thug alive in Bay Port that Neal knew, and he knew them all, that didn't dream of getting into her pants. Of course, he had, and when she pointed her pretty little finger at him, he couldn't help but cringe.

"Neal, I see you!" She swayed. Her lacquered red fingernail wavered around in the air, before she steadied enough to level it at him. "You fucking bastard!"

Neal palmed the $60 dollar pot. Regardless of the charges leveled against him, the pot belonged to him anyway. By the time everyone in the bar turned their attention from her to him, he was already outside.

He flattened the bills, tamping down any hint of a wrinkle. He organized the money from ones to fives to tens, and of course made sure they were all facing the right way. He put the money back into his pocket, his hands straying towards the Colt's dangling below his armpits when the doors burst open, disgorging first the lovely Queen of Spades, Machine Gun Molly.

Cheating on Molly to get a piece of Jez, had seemed like such a good idea at the time. Molly being the Don's daughter and Jez being the Don's most deadly cleaner, well the implications of all that hadn't hit until he saw the tommy gun Molly's moniker came from leveled at him.

Jez followed along right behind Molly. She favored dirty, bloody close ranged weapons. Tonight she had a shotgun. Her red hair whipped around her face like a raging inferno. She cocked the shotgun and squeezed the trigger before Neal fully comprehended the situation. The buckshot spread in a wide cone. The brunt of the damage was absorbed by nearby cars. Windshields burst and deep pock marks welled in the metal siding. It didn't stop Jez from cocking her gun and squeezing off another round.

Jon and George, the Carmikle Brothers, exited the bar next. They elicited a brief nod from Neal as he back pedaled from the group. Perhaps cheating at a card game with the Carmikle Brothers hadn't been his best idea either. At the time, making an easy sixty had made so much sense. The Carmikle Brothers weren't armed with weapons, thank god for that. What they lacked in weaponry, they made up with spite.

Everyone was swearing and hurling all manner of curses at him. Jez continued to call him a "mother fucking scum bag cheating bitch face" between shotgun blasts. Whereas Molly used her tommygun to do all the speaking for her. The Carmikle Brothers swore in their native Italian, which Neal wasn't fluent in. However, Neal took pride in knowing how to tell someone they were a dick and going to die in about twelve languages, Italian being one of them. So he knew what they were saying. Jon was busy describing how he was going to make a spaghetti dish with Neal's junk and then make Neal eat it all. George was much less poetic.

Neal stole a glance at the stars over head with his cerulean eyes. It was a gorgeous night to die. The stars were big as tears, and the moon was about to burst. Then he looked back at the forming posse. Jack "the Butcher" Gorgnia finished off the group. Neal hadn't even noticed Jack in the bar. Oh well. An even royal full house all pissed at him for some reason or another. Neal couldn't recall why Jack wanted "to scalp his head and make a blanket with his skin," but Neal wouldn't be surprised if Jack didn't have a great reason for expressing that sentiment.

Neal took out a cigarette and waited for the Queens to reload. Dodging around the parking lot was starting to look like a losing proposition. Granted the men without weapons weren't going to close on him while he still had his Colts. And everyone knew he wasn't going to fire at the Don's daughter. He might be able to get away with winging Jez, but Neal didn't like hurting girls, not even girls hurling buckshot at him.

Besides, Neal held out hope that when the girls calmed down they would see reason and join him a threesome. He liked his women with a side of crazy, what man didn't it? But he liked even more his face pretty and body fit, so that meant a tactical retreat. Neal was good at tactical retreats. Anyone that could convince Jez to sleep with him while her fiancé, the Don's son Leto, was out on the Frestfallen bombing rivals to smithereens needed to be really good at evasion.

He flicked the head of a match and sparked it alight. He brought the flame to the edge of his cigarette and inhaled. He smoked slow like a man savoring his last meal. The butt of the colts dangle from below his arms, but their metal is too dark to be easily seen. Still Neal found great comfort in their presence.

He tipped his head to Molly as she fumbled with her magazine. Apparently being drunk and reloading a tommy gun wasn't that easy after all. Jack hurled a knife at Neal, but Neal had already dropped down behind another Cadillac.

He took a drag and glanced up at the clear night sky. "Huh, at least it's a nice night." He shrugged and flicked the butt towards the ground, grinding the tip with his shoe, and lit another. He dropped down beneath the car, as his assailants fanned out. The Carmikle brothers hovered around Molly as she belched out another load of bullets from her gun. Jack had disappeared somewhere. Jez was circling around to his right, but he still had a few cars between them.

Neal flicked his switchblade open again. He plunged the blade into car's fuel tank that he was hiding under. It leaked gasoline onto the pavement just like he'd done to six other cars as he'd been dodging around the parking lot. If he judged the tilt of the lot, those other cars should send rivulets of gasoline that converged there.

Neal rolled through the next row of cars, flicking his cigarette at the line of gasoline racing towards him. The orange glow of ash left an afterimage tracing the trajectory of the cigarette through the air. It landed in the gasoline and ignited the liquid. Flames danced along the arteries of fuel towards the other cars. The cars explode one after the other into bonfires. Putrid black smoke clamored from the cars, darkening the night's light. It also smelled like burning rubber and chemicals, which it should have considering it was smoke coming from burning cars.

Neal lit another cigarette from under a nearby car as he watched a tide of feet burst from the bar. Sure, the patrons hadn't been keen to intervene with any business related to the Don, but several explosions must have changed their mind. He lost sight of the "full house" in the crowd, which Neal was banking on that working both ways.

Still, Neal felt like he'd worn out his welcome in a city, even one as large as Bay Port. That was a feeling he never ignored. It wasn't luck that he'd picked a card game at Belly's. Sixty bucks was the going price for a ticket on an airship. And the Carmickle Brother's weren't known for their brains. Granted, no captain in their right mind would offer him passage once word of this got out. And quite a few sailors were in Belly's tonight.

He joined the crowd from Belly's, which was soon joined by crowds from the other bars on the street. Neal surfed against the tide of humanity until he made it to a side street. He cut over a few blocks. He lit another cigarette as he walked down the streets towards the port. He stuck his thumb out looking to hitch a ride, but he was no stranger to walking alone to his next destination.

 

[Vailyn]

Talia Rose Carlton

Devlyn and Talia were like night and day.

Devlyn had long black hair curled in fashionable ringlets on her head, exotic almond shaped brown eyes and light golden skin that seem to shine. She was dressed in the latest fashion: a silk blouse with a scooped ruffled neckline that showed off her delicate mounds, her torso made tiny by a dark red velvet corset with black ribbons lacing down the sides, a bustle skirt of midnight blue satin shimmered in three ruffled tiers that swayed enticingly with each step, her legs clad in a sheer black stockings and thigh high velvet soft, black boots.

Then there's Talia with dark auburn waves that were tightly bound in a French braid and the true length hidden away within the braid above her nape. Bright blue eyes looked sharp from behind circular wire framed glasses set on a heart shaped face with a widow's peak marking the center of her forehead. What could be seen of her skin was like pale pink abalone. A soft ivory that flushed easily with emotions and contact. Whatever form she had could be hardly seen due to the outdated yellow and green striped shirt and plain dark brown linen split skirt that simply gathered at a surprisingly small waist and fell to her ankles. The shirt had belonged to Talia's late father. She had taken it in as much as she could and left it large so she could also use it as sleepwear. In her current state of affairs, finding ways to use one thing in several functions was the ideal goal to have.

"You can't possibly go off on your own, Talia." Devlyn said with concern. "Your father just passed away last week. It was a most unfortunate circumstance. You know you can come stay with us. My parents adore you! You can enroll at the finishing college with me. It may not be the classes you truly want to take but it'll be something." Normally, Devlyn would be thick as thieves with Talia and the two would be doing everything together. This time, Devlyn forced herself to sit still in the chair and watched her best friend move around the room taking things apart, piling other things together and generally making a chaotic mess that actually had an order of a sort.

"It wasn't an unfortunate circumstance, Dev. It was murder. Father was murdered by some damned thieves! They killed him and took the prototype engine he was working on. He's been ecstatic and hyper than a chipmunk on crack because he finally figured out how to make the fuel more efficient. This engine will revolutionize airship travel! Maybe all forms of transportation. The ideas and application is almost limitless." With each word she stated like a hammer on anvil, Talia grew more agitated and the words were a harsh clip of held back frustration and sorrow. She crushed the jacket in her hands and had to fight back the tears that seemed ever ready to fall. She hasn't cried since the night she found her father lying in his lab. There was too much to do. She had a plan and it wouldn't work if she fell apart. She had to be calm, logical and strong to follow it through.

She sighed. "I'm sorry, Dev. I don't mean to take it out on you. I know you mean well. If what I have planned doesn't work out, I'll take you up on your offer. But I have to try first. The creditors gave me until the weekend before they're coming to take the house and everything in it. I'm only allowed to take a few personal effects, jewelry and clothes. Thank you for offering to keep my things for me. I'll treasure that." Talia went to Dev and the girls hugged for a long time.

Talia pulled back and gave Devlyn a half-grin. The trademark sign that Talia had a thought and that thought lead to actions which lead to--mostly good things. "It's going to be an adventure, Dev! Like the kind we used to dream up when we were little girls. Except I'm going to actually do it. I'm going to finish what Father started. I may be one of the best pilots out there. It's not like there aren't female pilots and fighters now. You know I'm not afraid to get my hands dirty."

Devlyn grinned back at her. "Damned it all, Talia! I wish I could go too! I could you know. I could just pack a bag and go with you."

Talia grew serious. She shook her head at her friend. "Not this time, Dev. This time, I have to do it on my own. If I can't make it for some reason, I'll be back. You know me. I'm the responsible one."

Devlyn rolled her eyes at Talia. Well, she tried to roll her eyes. Whenever she tried to roll her eyes, it was more like a confused sideswipe of brown orbs going left to right and back. It always made Talia laugh. Just like now, Talia tried to hold back her giggles and laughed anyway.

"Maybe you shouldn't do that. It looks oh... you know. Kind of silly and unsophisticated. You do have a reputation to uphold as one of the leading, most fashionable young lady in society." Talia said with a very lofty, voice. Her snubbed nose dramatically high in the air as she peered down from her not so lofty height. After all, both of them were sitting down and neither were a smidge over 5'2" in height standing.

The girls laughed, hugged and Devlyn caved in to help Talia pack away treasured mementos and things that were going to be packed and stored at Devlyn's home. Within a few hours, everything that Talia could possibly think of that should be kept was packed away in boxes and labeled. Several strong helpers from Devlyn's home came with the car, a carriage with four rubber wheels and a large steam and gas engine that had to be wound up to start. Devlyn instructed them on what to take and pack.

"Are you sure you don't want to come with me?" she asked again. Hoping that Talia may change her mind at the last moment.

Talia shook her head. Little ringlets of red hair bounced off her cheeks. She gave Devlyn a fierce hug that her friend returned. "I'll be alright. Don't worry."

Devlyn kept a hold on Talia's forearms and demanded, "You take care of yourself. Don't become a shambling Eddie or fall prey to the scoundrels that hurt your father."

Talia gave her that impish half-grin and said, "If I become a walking dead, cannibal. You have my sincere demand to shoot me right between the eyes. It would be a blessing."

Then she stuck her tongue out like a two year old! The girls laughed until tears came out of their eyes. They shared a last hug before Devlyn left her friend alone in the night in a house that once was splendid but long lost it's flair.

Talia took the oil lantern with her to her bedroom. The cheerful fire in the fireplace kept the chill out of the room. She checked the large backpack. It held several changes of sturdy clothes, spare ankle boots, toiletries, first aid kit, Father's latest journal, pens, carefully hidden money and extra ammunition. She still needed to pack the dry goods and water bottle.

She picked up the special harness her father had designed for her and strapped it on. It fit over her arms and around her waist. Talia grew up helping her Father take things apart, put them back together and to build adaptations or new objects that work better than the old. A radio that had better reception. Tires that were more sturdy. A recorder that could record for several hours rather than a handful of minutes. The harness held everything she could possibly need to work as a mechanic engineer.

Then she put on the dual pistol belt and settled it over her hips. The guns were modified pistols that had special clips of smaller bullets. Her father designed it to be a defensive weapon that can shoot several yards farther than a regular pistol and shoot more ammo. It was lighter and had less recoil. A handy weapon that he made sure Talia would know how to use for her defense.

Ever since the outbreak, the world became a more dangerous place where people gathered in highly secure cities protected by strong walls. Travel between cities became a dangerous venture. The airships and armored caravans provided trade between cites and countries.

Something happened in the last war. Some sort of biochemical was released that brought the dead back to life. But they were not truly alive. They were mindless monsters that sought out living humans to feed on their flesh. Once bitten, it was only a matter of time before the person also turned. The reaping ghouls are called Eddies, short for Eidolons.

Talia pulled on her Father's short, black mantle. On her Father, the mantle only went to his knees. But on Talia, it covered her from neck to toe. It still smelled like him. The scent of cloves from the pipe he would puff on at night. She picked up the backpack, slung on the smaller carrier bag and the lantern.

Talia spent an hour walking in her home. The only house she had ever known. She never knew what the house looked like in it's hay day when her family had more money. She's never seen all of the rooms clean and lite up nice to host a gay party. But she's explored every nook and cranny of this house since she was a precocious child. It didn't seem real that she many never be in it again. It felt cavernously empty without Nanny D, cook and Father.

She saved the laboratory or what Nanny D had called the Riot Den for last. Talia put the lantern down on her Father's desk. She knelt down by the dark stain on the worn wooden floor. She pressed her hand on the stain. Pushed as if she could make herself fall into the floor or force the stain to suddenly disappear if she willed it hard enough. The only physical mark she had left of her Father. The place where he died, bleeding out in her arms.

"Goodbye, Father. I hope you are in a better place than this. Watch over me, will you? I miss you."

Talia stayed there for a long time. When she finally got up, her muscles ached and protested being still for so long. She was proud that she didn't cry. She didn't have time for tears now.

Now, she follows the plan. The plan that has already been set into motion. The important documents were packed and stored away at Devlyn's. She had everything she needed to start the next stage.

Talia covered her head with the hood of mantle, pulled on the backpack and walked to the front hall. She blew out the lantern, placed it on the side table and left her home for the last time. She knew the city like the back of her hand. It didn't matter that it was late at night and rowdy dangers were about. She had her pistols and the plan. Talia made her way towards the airship field. The Golden Arrow is set to leave after dawn. She planned to be on that airship before then and make herself indispensable to Captain Reese.

 

[kizkiz]

A nice night for a smoke.

Turns out no one was interested in picking up a guy in a frumpled suit with fresh tar stains and a pair of a Colts dangling from his armpits. Neal suspected that people were snobbish in the city about folk not looking presentable when picking up for a ride. He didn't mind too much. The walk gave him time to reflect upon the beauty of the stars overhead. It took just shy of a pack of cigarettes getting to the airfield.

It was an oddity of humanity, that people would call something an 'airfield' when it was really just a giant fenced in parking lot. The fence part posed a problem to Neal, as he didn't really feel like spending the time chatting it up with the pretty little thing behind the ticket booth. No, he really did want to chat it up with her and see where it went. He rubbed his chin, weighing his options.

Was it really possible that the queens, Carmikle brothers, or the butcher would have both figured out where he'd head and beat him there? Well the Carmikle brothers were a few cards short of a playable hand, so he wasn't worried about them. He was a faster draw then the brother's anyway. The queens might be an problem, but they were both crazy and angry. Those women had a hard time thinking straight on the best of days, and this wasn't one of them.

Jack on the other hand was a stone cold killer. Word was he'd killed a mountain lion with his bare hands. Neal could believe it with how mangled Jack's hands were. The scars climbed up Jack's enormous forearms like something terrible had shredded the skin. Other people said Jack did it to himself to be more intimidating.

Neal rubbed the stubble on his chin, eyeing the attendant from across the street. He had no doubt he could charm his way into her pants, but that would take time. He doubted she'd let him through without a taste or two. They always wanted at least one. The lines were dead at this time of night, so she was bored. On the downside, he'd look suspicious as hell if he wasn't here to hit on her.
What he could really use was one of those nerdy girls who'd never held hands with a guy. Someone that would melt when his cerulean eyes met hers. He thanked God everyday he'd been born with those puppies. He hadn't met a women yet who didn't go weak in the knees when his eyes met hers. He could add a half-smile or maybe a wink. It didn't take much with the ones that weren't jaded by how much dicks guys could be. He just needed someone gullible enough to still be looking for true love, or romance, or whatever it was young ladies fancied on sunny days frolicking through the meadows.

Neal lit up his last cigarette, took a drag, and expelled a perfect ring of smoke into the air. He had his mother's eyes, but he'd gotten his dad's tongue. He smiled as he caught sight of a potential mark.

 

[Vailyn]

Talia Rose Carlton

It was close to midnight by the time Talia made it to the airship field. Due to working with her Father, she knew practically every person that worked there. It was a relief to see Old Sandy at the booth. The woman was a fire cracker who used to man her own boat but, as she grew older, she couldn't keep up the hard work of a fishing boat and gave it over to her sons. Now, she worked part time at the airfield and kept herself busy with crossword puzzles and reading trashy romance novels.

"Hello, Sandy! What awful literature are you reading tonight?" asked Talia as she came up to the booth.

"Ho! Talia, what are you doing here? I heard about your father. I'm sorry to hear he's gone. He was a sight for sore eyes, wasn't he? The way he had with machinery was like magic! That man could fix anything, I swear to be! Eh, what are you doing here at this time of the night?" Wrinkles fanned out in colorful lines all over Old Sandy's face. She had her pipe sticking out from the left side of her mouth and puffing pine smoke into the air.

"I'm taking up Father's work and doing the repairs like he did. I have a job to do for Captain Reese on The Golden Arrow. It's a rush job because he's wanting to leave first thing in the morning. But before I get to that, I wanted to see what you're reading now. Come on, you know you want to tell me." Talia grinned. Old Sandy had a terrible habit of reading ridiculous stories with crazy story lines.

"Are you sure you want to know? Aren't you still a virginal maid, eh?" cackled Old Sandy.

"Yes but that doesn't dim my enjoyment of hearing your descriptions of the awful stories you love to read."

"Pish! This one is about two stubborn men that fall in love with each other but can't make it work. Then comes this man-child that needs a bit of help and the three of them can't get their hands off of each other. Clothes flying everywhere, cocks in asses and lots of strokin' going on if you know what I mean. It's a randy good time in this story of love and loss. Better than the weird Eddies love story that people are reading. Who would ever want to stick it to a freakin' shambling dead meat?" Old Sandy gave an exaggerated shiver of disgust. "Give me good old sex between men and women any day over that fictional trash! Eek!"

Talia laughed as she blushed. She's never thought about what it would be like for men to have sex, let alone three. Why would people do that? Wouldn't one person be enough? Strange the things people think about. Definitely strange. "That may be one of the stranger stories you told me about, Sandy. I should get going. I have a lot to do before the Arrow leaves."

 

[kizkiz]

The nameless gun slinger saunters over...

He'd mistaken her at first for one of the migrant workers. They were a sherpa of sorts that were always saddled down with gear, schlepping it hither and thither. He ground out the last of his cigarette with the heel of his boot. At the last moment as she turned to speak with the booth girl, and he'd caught a glint of large glasses that made her look like an albino owl. Perfect.

He grinned as he crossed the street and walked towards the women, chewing fat like a pair of old maids. His eyes were sharp, he picked out assorted little details. Her hunched over back, the outline of tools against the mantle, and the butt of some small caliber pistol. Only rich girls carried small caliber pistols like that. The poor ones either didn't bother and settled with whatever fate the night mete out, or they walked around with their older brothers. She was naive enough to think those pistols would matter if a real monster came at her, which meant she was rich and sheltered.

Something about the look of her face, he'd just caught the outlines, reminded him of something he'd seen a few days ago. He kept the frown from his face. He needed to project confidence and swagger. He was quite good at this particular routine.

He'd been trained by his dad's partner to pick up and recall people's names. At the time, he'd been training to be a gun slinger like his father. Some of that training still stuck.

"There you are." Neal said, saddling up to the chatting women. He kept the look of disgust from his face when he beheld the retched condition 'Sandy' was in. Ye gods, thank the heavens he hadn't had to hit that.

Neal's grin was genuine, and his proximity calculated to throw the pair off balance. He leaned against the counter window with the casual grace of a panther stretching after a nap. "Old man had me shagging gear for the chief, and now I'm on baby sitting duty."

His grin never left his face. It was an easy, good natured expression. His cerulean eyes swept from Talia to Sandy. Girls hated being ignored, so doing that should help to set the hook. "Hey Sandy. This is the new gearhead for the Arrow, right?" He looked up into the air for a moment, "Ah, Talia I think Cap said her name was. Gesh, after what happened to her father, he wanted me to keep a close on her."

Neal swung his cerulean eyes towards Talia now that he could look her full into the face. For some reason, people felt that someone was being truthful if they could meet your gaze without wavering. This was something Neal had spent years perfecting. Worked really well when bluffing in cards too. One of his large hands went out and dropped onto Talia's shoulder. "I'm truly sorry for what happened. You have my word, nothing like that will happen while I'm with you." His grin slipped away, and he let his face go hard. "I don't give my word lightly, yeah?"

His giant colts, with sufficient caliber to explode a man's head from twenty feet away like a rotten melon, swung from beneath his armpits. They usually helped to underscore any point he wanted to make.

"Now, let's get you to the Arrow. Most of the crew is still out enjoying leave, so you'll have time to settle before we shove off."