Ivy had been trying very hard not to come to precisely that same conclusion herself, but once her Jäger companion had spoken the words, there was only so much wishful ignoring she could do. She froze midstep, and held his gaze even, so many questions rushing through her head, even she was sure what exactly she was thinking. Embarrassment (and subsequent, fiery, defensive rage) at having been caught in a blatant Heterodyne lie aside...what if he was right? What if she was right?
It was clear from Ludd's musings he had been, at the very least, familiar with a woman -- and a Spark -- who looked, and apparently acted quite a bit like Ivy. And if Ludd was supposed to have been dead long enough for children to tell ghost stories, where was this phantom woman? Who was she that she could capture the heart of a feared dread pirate? And how had Ivy ended up so far from house and home?
Ivy realized suddenly she was staring without quite seeing anyway and turned away abruptly somewhere between dismay and shame. Her eyes fell just briefly on the dusty bed with its dusty coverlet in the corner, and she thought, for an instant, how nice it could be to sleep forever. She all at once felt as thought she had been walking her whole life, that she and Jötz had fallen into the canals not the night before, but centuries earlier, when her great grandmother was still sailing the skies with whatever had been before the skeleton in the next room.
"All the more reason to get some answers before he realizes who I am," Ivy said abruptly, tracing star-shaped patterns in the dust on a low shelf with her remaining fingers. "We can't kill him yet. Not if we don't have to. We're going to...we're going to head to the next town. We're going to play his game, for now."
At her hip, Petris poked one spindly leg from the pocket of her apron, prodding the air like a curious dog sniffing for meat. Ivy didn't notice.
"And in the meantime," she began slowly, chewing her lip as an idea began to form in her head, "I want you to tell me everything you know about Jacob Lubb."
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It was probably a good things Pauline was there -- and decidedly more grounded than Deli was, or ever had been, even before Army Astronaut Mike -- because Deli was almost positive her head might have just rolled off her shoulders like a bowling ball....a bowling ball filled with potential flammable and very buoyant gas, because its next stop was whatever remained of the billowy clouds she'd been so fond of wandering back on earth.
At Pauline's gentle insistance/polite introduction, Deli started and swallowed hard around a sticky gob of sugar and food coloring that somehow didn't choke her on its way down.
"I...um...yeah. Deli. I -- I'm Deli. I work down here. With Pauline. And Reece. And Curmy. And Blue. I...I do...explosions," she stammered, without bothering to cite her more professional title, whatever that was. Even Army Astronaut Mike could not beg that level of boring maturity from Deli.
Still. She felt somewhat inclined to stare at his face.
She tried very hard not to.
Sort of.
"You can...um...as many as you want. Just...not the green ones. Unless you like those ones, too."
At Pauline's gentle insistance/polite introduction, Deli started and swallowed hard around a sticky gob of sugar and food coloring that somehow didn't choke her on its way down.
"I...um...yeah. Deli. I -- I'm Deli. I work down here. With Pauline. And Reece. And Curmy. And Blue. I...I do...explosions," she stammered, without bothering to cite her more professional title, whatever that was. Even Army Astronaut Mike could not beg that level of boring maturity from Deli.
Still. She felt somewhat inclined to stare at his face.
She tried very hard not to.
Sort of.
"You can...um...as many as you want. Just...not the green ones. Unless you like those ones, too."
I should have something up shortlyish!
Heroes, Justric, Derren, those last couple posts make me want to sit back and just read...unfortunately, I can give none of you your proper due, because I clicked Justric's link, and now I must away to do something hysterical happy.
Take your time, Grainsy! This week is so busy all the busy overflows into the weekend! But Saturday and Sunday are the fun kinds of busy. Saturday, I'm volunteering to build some house stuff (putting up walls is both my favorite and least favorite form of manual labor), and Sunday I get the first round of my quarter-century birthday gift to myself. =D *excited wiggle*
Ooooh...yeah, I'm with Derren, Kuro, and LT on this one, guys. Those drinks make me feel like I'm living life in a B list thriller, all jumpy and paranoid and surrounded by the younger siblings of celebrities. =/
I just wanted to share this with you all. No real reason...except maybe to prove to myself that I'm not a horrible person for having laughed until I cried? Maybe? ;-;
Park watched the two go with a faint smile on his face, deciding if this 'Josey' character was even half as intimidating as their head of security made him sound...well, maybe it wouldn't hurt to stick around and scrub a few dishes. It was some time yet before he was to meet with Pauline, and the quiet familiarity of soap and bubbles was somehow more soothing than anything else he might have hoped for in the moment.
--
Deli couldn't remember having seen Pauline during the briefing, but that was hardly unusual. The young demolitionist was forever getting little details like that, and she was notoriously hopeless putting names to faces in the first place -- hence her penchant for nicknames, as with Curmy and Blue.
She had not, however, named Reece anything, and while she was more or less oblivious to Pauline's labored breathing, she hadn't missed the bit about being hired. Deli tilted her head to one side rather like an inquisitive bird, rolling an orange gummy bear around on her tongue as she tried to figure out why the simple line sat so strangely with her. Not bad, of course. Deli didn't dislike many people at all (she had been downright rude with Dr. Park, and she only "nothing'd" him), and certainly not anyone who was so willing to eat more than her fair share of the yellow gummy bears.
But it was strange. And she couldn't, for the life of her, place just why.
"He hired you?" Deli asked outright after a moment, her expression somewhere between awe and disbelief. "Wow, Reece must like you. Or you're real good at your job," she added with a grin, suddenly more curious than suspicious. "Hey, if you work with the training programs, maybe you can -- oh. Hi."
Deli dropped the sentence as abruptly as a child might drop an old toy for a new one when the newcomer walked up. She'd never been very shy, so she spared him only half a glance before getting back to the matter at hand -- her new friend, and her new friend's talents -- and then did a double take as her brain registered everything else about this stranger.
This absurdly, magazine-center-fold-of-the-year handsome stranger.
"...oh," said Deli again, and went abruptly, uncharacteristically pink. "Guay..."
She only barely registered that the newcomer was speaking to Pauline, or at all, and it was as if from a great distance she heard him ask after Pauline. Curiosity piqued in the back of her mind again, but it was quickly overwhelmed by the desire to keep staring at the new kid.
And to speak. She knew how to do that. Didn't she? Yes. Sort of.
"Do..." she stammered, then swallowed and tried again. "Do...you...bears?"
--
Deli couldn't remember having seen Pauline during the briefing, but that was hardly unusual. The young demolitionist was forever getting little details like that, and she was notoriously hopeless putting names to faces in the first place -- hence her penchant for nicknames, as with Curmy and Blue.
She had not, however, named Reece anything, and while she was more or less oblivious to Pauline's labored breathing, she hadn't missed the bit about being hired. Deli tilted her head to one side rather like an inquisitive bird, rolling an orange gummy bear around on her tongue as she tried to figure out why the simple line sat so strangely with her. Not bad, of course. Deli didn't dislike many people at all (she had been downright rude with Dr. Park, and she only "nothing'd" him), and certainly not anyone who was so willing to eat more than her fair share of the yellow gummy bears.
But it was strange. And she couldn't, for the life of her, place just why.
"He hired you?" Deli asked outright after a moment, her expression somewhere between awe and disbelief. "Wow, Reece must like you. Or you're real good at your job," she added with a grin, suddenly more curious than suspicious. "Hey, if you work with the training programs, maybe you can -- oh. Hi."
Deli dropped the sentence as abruptly as a child might drop an old toy for a new one when the newcomer walked up. She'd never been very shy, so she spared him only half a glance before getting back to the matter at hand -- her new friend, and her new friend's talents -- and then did a double take as her brain registered everything else about this stranger.
This absurdly, magazine-center-fold-of-the-year handsome stranger.
"...oh," said Deli again, and went abruptly, uncharacteristically pink. "Guay..."
She only barely registered that the newcomer was speaking to Pauline, or at all, and it was as if from a great distance she heard him ask after Pauline. Curiosity piqued in the back of her mind again, but it was quickly overwhelmed by the desire to keep staring at the new kid.
And to speak. She knew how to do that. Didn't she? Yes. Sort of.
"Do..." she stammered, then swallowed and tried again. "Do...you...bears?"
Happy holidays and bye, Idle =( and also I should have a post up by tomorrow evening...I'm stuck between airports and airplanes all day, and my wifi is iffy, but I can work on a post in the meantime.
Ivy didn't say a word as she led their small party down the hall and to their quarters. She hadn't really heard what Ludd had said (or what Jötz was saying now), but she managed to find the somewhat antiquated room anyway, as if her feet had already known the way. And the truly upsetting part, of course, was that they might have.
Still quietly oblivious, Ivy walked into her room, straight to the desk, pulled out the chair and sat, only to hop back up a second later, her arms (or what remained of them) wrapped around her middle, her fingers chafing at the gooseflesh there. She clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering, but she couldn't make herself stoping shivering, and the whole time, Ludd's last words kept playing in her mind: I swear it on the name of Agnes St. Mayhew.
Muttering, Ivy began to pace even as Jötz sat to reload his weapon. It wasn't until he said "gut likeness" that she remembered him, looking over sharply her expression that of a sleepwalker who'd just been rudely woken.
"We're not killing him," she snapped distractedly. She stopped pacing to face him, though she was still rubbing her arms and hadn't actually looked at him yet. "He...he has stuff we need. Books and...and stuff." Answers, she thought, but she didn't say it.
It was then she caught sight of the portrait Jötz mentioned and, frowning, moved toward it until she was standing just before the desk again. She took a breath and made herself stop shaking for just long enough to take the picture frame up without sending it crashing to the floor. Immediately, she could see what the Jaeger meant. The picture was not of her, she knew that. It was far too old, the landscape in the background -- a field of stars behind a moon that seemed too close; billowing sails to either side -- was nothing she'd ever seen before. But she could see the likeness, too. Unruly midnight curls, wide-set green eyes. Freckles on high cheeks bones, and an expression that said "I'm only still here because I love you and I'm daydreaming anyway".
It was at once haunting and wonderful.
"We're not killing him," Ivy said again, calmer now as she set down the picture and turned back to Jötz, her eyes alight with the beginning of a manic grin. "We need him. I need him." She paused, considered, then shrugged. "That picture isn't me. I think it's...my grandmother. My great-great-great-great grandmother. Give or take a couple greats."
Still quietly oblivious, Ivy walked into her room, straight to the desk, pulled out the chair and sat, only to hop back up a second later, her arms (or what remained of them) wrapped around her middle, her fingers chafing at the gooseflesh there. She clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering, but she couldn't make herself stoping shivering, and the whole time, Ludd's last words kept playing in her mind: I swear it on the name of Agnes St. Mayhew.
Muttering, Ivy began to pace even as Jötz sat to reload his weapon. It wasn't until he said "gut likeness" that she remembered him, looking over sharply her expression that of a sleepwalker who'd just been rudely woken.
"We're not killing him," she snapped distractedly. She stopped pacing to face him, though she was still rubbing her arms and hadn't actually looked at him yet. "He...he has stuff we need. Books and...and stuff." Answers, she thought, but she didn't say it.
It was then she caught sight of the portrait Jötz mentioned and, frowning, moved toward it until she was standing just before the desk again. She took a breath and made herself stop shaking for just long enough to take the picture frame up without sending it crashing to the floor. Immediately, she could see what the Jaeger meant. The picture was not of her, she knew that. It was far too old, the landscape in the background -- a field of stars behind a moon that seemed too close; billowing sails to either side -- was nothing she'd ever seen before. But she could see the likeness, too. Unruly midnight curls, wide-set green eyes. Freckles on high cheeks bones, and an expression that said "I'm only still here because I love you and I'm daydreaming anyway".
It was at once haunting and wonderful.
"We're not killing him," Ivy said again, calmer now as she set down the picture and turned back to Jötz, her eyes alight with the beginning of a manic grin. "We need him. I need him." She paused, considered, then shrugged. "That picture isn't me. I think it's...my grandmother. My great-great-great-great grandmother. Give or take a couple greats."
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