Battletech: Planet's Fall

In the hangars that have gone mostly silent at this hour stands a skinny, medium height woman in a hoodie, just a bit of her blue hair sticking out of the hood like impromptu bangs. Well, standing would be a generous description, as she seems to be leaning fairly heavily on one arm, her hand pressed against the heavy metal ankle of a Crusader battlemech. There's a small murmur to denote she's talking to it, but not loudly enough to draw all that much attention. And mechwarriors talking to their mechs the night before a drop is hardly odd behavior. The older Rains girl, often called Make It by her comrades, seems exceptionally somber though.

The sound of footsteps coming from down the hangar ring. Heavy boots, it sounds like.

There is a low, muttered string of expletives and knuckles cracking. "Asshole telling me what I can't do with Grandma. Lucky I don't accidentally stomp on her ass next time I get a chance."

And then he kicks a tool cart in the dark dropping a few tools, with them clattering loudly to the floor. As he goes about picking them up he notices the other pilot and sighs.

He doesn't intentionally interrupt, but the sound of metal crashing likely did that anyway.

"Sorry."

Gianna continues her lean on the mech, but her head turns to regard the other mechwarrior.

"It's fine, uh... Butcher, right?" She says slowly, a bit like she's stepping out of a haze to look at him. "Uh, Gianna," she says, nodding her chin toward herself. He's been around long enough to know her rank and call sign, not that she wants to spend any breath on that. "And this," she says a little stronger, turning to look at her mech and pat its giant metal foot, "is Gorgeous George."

Gianna Rains wrote: ↑

Fri Dec 31, 2021 4:29 am

"Yeah. I know who you are," he says. It comes out rougher than he intended. So he sighs to try and collect himself. But somehow manages to sound exasperated which also wasn't his intention.

"I... Promise you. I ain't mad as i sound. Jus always sound this way cause I usually am that mad probably."

He approached and offered a fist to bump.

"You name him for a special George or a famous George?"

Gianna looks a little exasperated, but smiles and returns the fist bump - her hand still on Gorgeous George.

"More special," she says softly. "He, um. Didn't really get to being famous. I mean, he was famous in our company, but not famous beyond that." She takes a heavy sigh. "I kinda didn't want Gorgeous George, but... You know how the universe sometimes gives you things you don't want, and it turns out to be good that it did?"

He shakes his head. "Not really. Universe ain't been so nice to me. Glad it has for you though," he says. He was about to say something about seeing the folks they cared about again. But then remembered that not everyone believes that shit. He certainly stopped a while ago.

"People leave us behind. But they tried to make life better for us before they went away. Just gotta keep going for them, cause it's what they wanted."

John Slaktare wrote: ↑

Fri Dec 31, 2021 2:39 pm

He shakes his head. "Not really. Universe ain't been so nice to me. Glad it has for you though," he says.

Gianna snorts at that. "Well..." But she stops to let him finish.

"People leave us behind. But they tried to make life better for us before they went away. Just gotta keep going for them, cause it's what they wanted."

At that sentiment, Gianna nods. "And you find new people who want you to keep going, too." She looks at him, seeing he doesn't believe that, but she continues anyway.

"I was, uh, a mess when I got here. Gorgeous George was about the only thing I had in the universe. But, um... There's good folks here. Helped me get my feet, get my head on right..." She fights through what might have been a sniffle with a little bark of laughter.

"It, uh, doesn't fix everything," she says with a sad chuckle. "But it makes getting up each day easier. Knowing other people are working through their crap, too."

Staring up at her mech for a long moment, he seems a bit lost.

"Other people..."

He looks at her.

"...are great for some. All the people from my life have been more pain than love. Math doesn't add up for me," he says, thinking about the fact that he only knew the absence of his parents, and that the suffering of his grandmother led him down a path that cost people their lives so that he could extend her suffering a little while longer because neither of them was ready to give up.

"You had somebody you cared about. You lost them but are inspired by your time with them. You can see that potential in other people and that's great. What were they like?"

Because talking and listening made people feel better, usually. Didn't do a damn thing for him, no matter how many times he tried though.

Gianna looks at him intensely, like she's trying to look through his eyes. She's no great mind reader, but knows both that there's a lot going on and that he's not going to share it now. She nods to herself in understanding.

"George was, um..." She seems to not know where to start. She gives a little chuckle. "George was everything," she says, voice soft but proud. "Not just to me. Everybody liked George. Kind and patient, encouraging, a great mechwarrior... Maybe the best person I ever met." She smiles brightly, and then Butcher can see a sparkle from the corner of one eye.

"But, uh... Well. That's who he was. Taught me how to be a mechwarrior. Was... Was just everything. And when he was gone... I didn't know what to do." She takes a heavy breath and nods a few times. It seems to calm her at least a little, as her shoulders relax and the tear doesn't seem as likely to fall.

He listens, actually listens, while she talks. He's not a very good person, but he is attentive. The fact that he doesn't think he can get better doesn't stop him from assuming other people can.

"What is really terrible is that you know that if he was here, he'd probably do what he could to cheer you up and that you wouldn't need him to because he'd be here. Irony of losing someone that cares about you and wanting to see them again. It's not the same as missing someone that's still around. All you have is the memory, no hope of making new ones," he says.

Can make memories with new folks. But they'll just die too. Or I will then they'll be sad.

He wonders if he's opening up too much. Is it time to start pissing people off again?

Gianna laughs the tiniest bit. It's not clear exactly why.

"I guess memories are a little like a drug. The more you have, the more you want. Always want better ones, no matter how good things already were... Kinda makes sense. Most memories fade with time and you need something to fill the space..."

She laughs a little again, looking up to the ceiling briefly then back to Butcher.

"Sorry, I... I wasn't, um, expecting such good perspective? So, sorry. I... made some assumptions about you." She sniffs lightly. "I shouldn't do that."

"Nah. The assumptions are right. Get in my way or piss me off and I'll start throwing punches. Gimme a reason and I'll lose it. Just isn't all there is. A person can't only be angry. Have to have something they lost to be angry about," he says, shrugging.

"I just been tryin to be a bit better about it. Though I don't really know why I been trying."

"And memories are different for different people. Drugs ain't always bad. The doc'll tell you that. Just gotta have the right ones and don't overdo it."

"Mmhmm. Mmhmm," she affirms as she listens. She folds her arms across her chest lightly and takes a small step closer to him.

"It, uh, probably has to do with whoever you keep going for. They would want you to keep trying... Do the best you can." She carefully doesn't say anything about being happy, about having goals or a brighter future or any of that foolishness.

"It, uh... I think some days I keep going because of just momentum - that it's just another day like the ones I've been going through. But some days I do better, feel like I want to be here, taking care of people and... And seeing where all of this ends up." She shrugs a little, looking up at Butcher without any judgement or agenda. Maybe more than a little curiosity.

Her eyes looking to his find a look that is only serious. Hard and honest, with just the slightest hint of awareness of everything around, like he's waiting for something to jump them.

"To be honest, I keep going because there's more work to do. Because that's how I was raised. Get the job done, move on to the next job, shove anyone in your way out of your way. Don't slow down production. First time you slow down production you get a warning, second time you get your ass kicked, third time you're fired."

His eyes remain on hers, not really looking for anything or giving anything other than attention.

"But that's just me. I know others don't do things the same way. The future is something for dreamers to look forward to. Having dreams is good for some people. I'm the kind of guy others can use to build their dreams on the back of, and I don't care... so long as you don't tell me how I'm supposed to do what I already know how to do. I live in the now, not the future. So when someone says I can't do something with my own shit," his nose flares a bit at the thought of the Sergeant Major, "... that's about when I lose my shit."

"I don't understand how some people take it. How do you take being told what you believe is wrong without reaching out to strangle the ignorant throat that said it?"

"Because there are always more throats to tell you no, that you're wrong, that you're trash. You can't kill them all. You'd just die trying."

Gianna's voice is level, unflustered, like she's been down this line of thinking before. Her eyes, looking up at Butcher's, are hard. There's no rage or bitterness, just a stillness like the ripples through that pond have long calmed.

"Someone should give them what they deserve," he says. "Worst kind of people besides me."

"Well, the universe usually makes things work out, I think," Gianna says, probably over-optimistically for Butcher's taste. "People who deserve bad things will find them, whether I make that a priority or not," she says confidently. "Meanwhile, I'm trying to keep some good people, like we have here, from accidentally getting bad stuff happening to them when they certainly don't deserve it."

"Sometimes the bad shit is enough to break us. Sometimes it piles on. And sometimes it gets so bad that you stop seeing good in anything," he replies shaking his head.

"It's good we have optimistic folks like you around. Makes this company better. Certainly know I'm not doing us any favors on that front."

He looks to her again.

"There are folks that need people looking out for them. And I'll likely put myself in harms way to protect them. Guessing you would too. Just make sure that they're worth saving, cause not everyone is," he says, clearly suggesting himself.

Gianna gives him what might seem like a disappointed look, then it transitions to a smirk.

"You know, Butcher. The darnedest thing about what you just said? Is the people that most deserve saving... They're the ones that'll tell you the loudest not to save them." Then she catches his eyes with hers, her look suggesting he's not gonna shake her on this.

"Most folks like that can't tell you exactly why they don't deserve it. I got six names that would disagree with you if they could."

He was just as adamant about this apparently.

"I ain't trying to torture myself. I try to find enjoyment where I can get it. But if you're right and the universe sets shit right, I'm in for something brutal."