Avatar of Gingy
  • Last Seen: 1 yr ago
  • Joined: 7 yrs ago
  • Posts: 98 (0.04 / day)
  • VMs: 0
  • Username history
    1. Gingy 7 yrs ago

Status

User has no status, yet

Bio

User has no bio, yet

Most Recent Posts

Lorelei Jones - Ace's Diner

Tom turned to Lorelei and sat down next to her once the radio had finished, “Well, this other Tom fella sounds like quite a specimen. We Toms do tend to be charming and rugged.”

Lorelei gave a slight frown. "Was quite a specimen." She took a sip of her otherworldly-looking milkshake and crossed her legs atop her barstool. Her large overcoat hung over the edges of her seat. She eavesdropped on the ruckus around her, but kept her gaze fixed at the bar to avoid making strange eye contact with anyone.

"Whoa there, Romeo. If you’re looking for an good time may I suggest the pleasure Den, booze, drugs and women and best of the all caravan traders get a 10% discount.”

Lorelei hadn't a clue whether or not she should be offended that Steve had used her brief interaction with Tom as a gateway into promoting his imaginary empire, or if she should be grateful that he had attempted to ward off this haggard flirt of a man. Still, she nodded in Dr. Feelgood's direction. "Our last talk was...interrupted. And I grew tired of waiting, so I left. My apologies."

She then took another sip and smiled, a milkshake mustache sitting above her lips. She wiped it off with her finger and licked it off. She narrowed her eyes at Ace with a curious spark in her expression. "So -- let's say, hypothetically, that a girl like me wanted to lend her talents to the town's militia. Would Barney be the guy to chat with?"

Lorelei finished her milkshake. "That...was...surprisingly...perfect? I'll want another, next time I come round." She pushed her glass to the edge of the counter and turned to face the other tenants, watching all of the others speak and making awkward eye contact with anyone looking in her direction.
Lorelei Jones - Drumlin Diner

“I don’t have strawberries, hard to get out here. But I do have plenty of Mutfruits, I can make a shake out of that for 20 caps.” Ace said as he walked over to the fridge and grabbed milk and the fruit. He heard her say 15, he rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders in agreement. “So…Barney, I take it I’m going to have to add this particular mutant to the targeting computer as a friendly? Won’t be easy considering almost all those freaks look similar,” Ace said as he started to prepare the ingredients. He walked over to the blender and put in some milk, chopped mutfruit, and a little ice into the blender.

Lorelei fumbled around in her pocket, looking for her caps. She scrounged fifteen together and lazily shoved the pile across the counter. “A mutfruit shake?” She looked upward, an exaggerated expression of her thought process. “Sign me up. I've had almost every variant of milkshake known to the world. Except this one, apparently.” She watched as Ace began to stir her drink and leaned onto her elbows. “Perhaps we should get Rook something charming to wear. Like a flower-crown. I wouldn’t shoot a mutant with a flower-crown. Would you?”

Ace grabbed a clean cup and poured the contents of the blender into it, with plenty left for another 2 shakes. He handed her the drink, and went back to stirring the stew. As he stirred he heard Tom approach the woman, he leaned on the counter and tipped his hat at her, “Well hello, young lady. Name is Thomas Beauregard Sykes the III, entrepreneur extraordinary, purveyor of wares far and wide. What might your lovely name be?”

“Tom, hmm? I used to travel with a man named Tom. He was more rugged and charming, though,” she said, with a shit-eating grin on her face that had a satirical quality to it. She kept her eyes fixed on Ace’s work. “My name is Lorelei. Lorelei Jones.” She stretched and let loose a sigh of relief. It was good to get a spot of fresh air. “I can’t say that there’s any facet of my life that I can affix ‘extraordinaire’ to. You’ll just have to settle for junk-hoarder or sharpshooter.”
Lorelei Jones - Weaver Residence

The night drew on and silence filled Eliza’s house. Lorelei let go of Eliza’s hand and sank into her armchair. What a fucking day, that was. The first twenty-four hours of Salem had brought Lorelei an excruciating amount of interest. Most of it had accumulated into the form of this girl – this quiet, attractive woman who’d still managed to be charming within an inch of death.

A voice reverberated from the lower depths of the tower. “…Hello? Anyone here?” Lorelei placed her desert eagle on her lap and took a deep breath. She said nothing. The male voice bellowed again. “I found your…unicorn. I know you’re injured. I can help. There’s a doctor I can take you to.” She recognized it. The booming voice belonged to the bloke she’d met earlier – Steve, the man she’d penned ‘Dr. Feelgood’. She didn’t respond. Instead, she let the echoing of Dr. Feelgood’s voice wither away into building and fade into total silence again.

Lorelei understood that if Eliza woke up without her sitting by her side, she’d disintegrate. Just a few hours ago, she had tried to draw a gun on Lora, but was too weak to even lift the barrel. Now, she had fallen asleep with their hands cupped together. A link of trust had been crudely pieced together. Although Lorelei had found said ‘trust’ before, it was not the same. The form that tossed and turned on the bed felt like home to her now, as if Eliza was the only piece of Salem that had cracked through her exterior. True, she’d made friends with the mutant—“Rook”—down on the hill, and she valued that jolly green giant with all of her being, but here was different. She only wanted to protect the girl on the bed.

Still, even with that in mind, Lorelei was suffocating. She hated lingering in the silence, in the stuffy room where Eliza’s sweaty half-naked form had tampered with the serenity of the air. She needed to stroll outside. Perhaps she could catch ‘Dr. Feelgood’ on the ground and tell him the truth; or, at least, some convenient version of it. She stood up. She pulled the covers over Eliza’s shoulder and played with the roots of the woman’s mangy hair. She was tough. She would be all right.

Lorelei crept toward the door and left the room without making a sound. She slipped out of the apartment complex and strolled toward the diner.

“I’ll tell you what’s going on…You’ve got a greenskin behind here readying for an attack!”

Lorelei heard a voice booming from the diner. She squinted and noticed that many silhouettes had inhabited the place. She’d recognized Steve and Barney sitting inside, but none of the others. She raced toward the building with an alarmed look on her face. Once she’d made it to the diner, she folded her arms.

“Calm yourselves. The mutant is not hostile. His name is ‘Rook’ and he’s harvesting materials to help build a barrier. I watched him work this afternoon, myself.” She glared at Tom, the man who she had yet to meet, and pushed past the rest of the group to make her way inside the diner. She sat down on one of the barstools and locked eyes with the man behind the counter.

Lorelei turned her head slightly sideways and furrowed her brow at Ace. “What does a girl have to do around here to get her hands on a strawberry milkshake?” She peered over at Steve and Barney and lazily bowed her head in greeting. "Nice place you've got, by the way."
Lorelei Jones - Weaver Residence

Lorelei herself had drifted off into sleep. The exhaustion of working to save a stranger’s life—let alone the fact that she herself didn’t even remotely resemble a qualified physician—had sucked every bit of energy left inside of her. Her cheek rested atop Eliza’s head, rooted in the woman’s dirty-blonde hair. She didn’t have high hopes; Lorelei understood that she had done too little. She was still vexed, regardless; the woman had begged to stay away from the good doctor. Odd. What Lorelei had done by healing and giving warmth to this woman was wade into an enigma. She had much left to learn about her, if Eliza were to survive.

It all felt strange. Life and death had been toyed with in on a night like this, in a town where they were surrounded by supposedly friendly neighbors. Yet they were alone. This was clearly done by choice, but Lorelei could not help but feel like living among a community in this world was no different than the isolated days she'd spent near Silverton with Clementine. Salem, until it could be forged by strong relationships between self-elected pillars of the community, was nothing more than a free-for-all.

Eventually, Lorelei lazily opened her eyes and groaned under her breath. Eliza was closer, now – her immeasurably cold arm wrapped around Lorelei's waist and her hand resting on her lap. It wasn’t affectionate—at least Lorelei didn’t think so—it was only necessity. Appreciation, at best. Eliza desperately needed Lorelei's warmth. Meanwhile, it had become dark outside. Moonlight invaded the ruined apartment-building and gifted rather jarring lighting to the hallway. She turned her head and raised an eyebrow. The woman was awake. Lorelei had so many words built up inside her; so many possible ways of articulating and exclaiming everything. She could not decide how to proceed and instead settled on something slightly simpler.

“Hi.”

Eliza didn’t know what to say; she was cold and still in pain. As much as she fought against her death, she had still given up in the end. Why was she still here? Why did she wake up? Most importantly, why did this woman save her? She had so many questions, and she was certain that the woman did as well. However, Eliza’s focus was elsewhere. She was facing the reality of her vulnerability. Having stared death in it’s all-too-familiar face and survived, Eliza was tempted by arrogance. However, from her experience she knew better. Death could only be cheated for so long and Eliza certainly wasn’t out of the woods yet.

Eliza was still freezing to death, or at least that’s what it felt like, seeing as how her breath was starting to become visible in the salty ocean air. It wasn’t helping that her bare skin was left exposed on the frigid floorboards. Eliza just wished she could pull herself closer to Lorelei. That she had the strength to embrace her, but it took every bit of her strength just to keep herself awake. Every shallow breath felt as if it were her last, and when Eliza tried to answer the woman all she could muster from her dry cracked lips was a weak, barely audible “hello.”

Lorelei used her free arm to unclip her water-filled canteen and offered it to Eliza. She placed her hand across the woman’s cheek. To say that she was still frigid cold would have been an understatement. She wrapped her arm around Eliza’s shoulder, pulling her closer and attempting to keep her warm. She sighed and remained quiet for a while, watching the moonlight invade the room.

After her observant little stint was over, Lorelei pushed a few loose strands of hair out of Eliza’s face. “Now, what is this pretty thing doing with two of those?” she pointed at the pair of gunshot wounds. She lifted the bottom of the woman’s shirt, perusing the wound on her belly to make sure it hadn’t started bleeding again. Both were stable. If Lorelei could keep her healthy, Eliza would live.

“I’m Lorelei. Lorelei Jones.”

Eliza wasn't even strong enough to raise Lorelei's canteen to her lips. It was embarrassing that someone had to help her drink but she cherished every drop of water that crossed her lips. The water was refreshing but it still didn't help keep her awake. Her eyes were dark and sunken from exhaustion and it was everything Eliza could do to keep herself awake and alert. She was afraid to fall asleep for fear that she wouldn't wake back up.

Even the cold wasn't enough to keep Eliza awake, but the pain she was experiencing certainly made up for it. Every breath exacerbated the pain from her abdominal injury and Eliza didn't even want to try and move her leg. She could tell from the searing pain that she couldn't move it, she'd be lucky if she could drag herself across the floor without screaming at this point. Now she just hoped that Lorelei didn't notice that the tears in her eyes were getting worse because of the pain. It wasn't something she could control, but it still made her feel horrible. Eliza never cried like this, she didn't know she still could.

With Eliza having finished up with the canteen and Lorelei returning it to her side Eliza leaned her head back onto Lorelei's shoulder. She enjoyed the woman's presence, but she still wished that Lorelei would pull her closer. She thought about saying something to her but she was embarrassed to, even in the state she was in where it made sense to ask. So instead she let out a meager sigh before she softly spoke through chattering teeth.

“I'm Eliza.”

Lorelei gave a warm smile. She wrapped her arms around Eliza’s shivering form and gave her a warm embrace. She could relate, in a way, to this woman’s total despair and loss of direction. Years ago, she had fallen into the same void. But she had grown elite at shedding off her old worlds and adopting new ones. It was a required skill to have longevity in the new world.

“How about we get you to a bed? Is this your home?”

Finally, it felt better than she could ever it imagine it would. Eliza closed her eyes and for a brief moment everything felt substantially better. Lorelei's embrace sent a tingling sensation through Eliza's body as she warmed her up. Although the sensation was fleeting and Eliza's pain quickly returned to her, the well-meant embrace now sent surges of pain throughout her body as her hyperactive nerves responded to the pressure against her wounds. Eliza didn't want to pull away from her though, she couldn't. All she could do was let out a tense breath laced with anguish, but for as much as it hurt Eliza wanted to fall asleep in her arms. To her nothing about it was sexual, she was just instinctively drawn to Lorelei's infectious warmth. Still shivering and grimacing through the pain Eliza got out a short response to Lorelei. As much as Eliza wanted to pass out where they sat, she knew they weren't safe here.

"Third floor."

Lorelei reluctantly pulled away from Eliza’s grasp and stood. She groaned as she did so; she hadn’t been upright in hours. “Right.” She braced herself. Lorelei was not in the best shape of her life. She was far, far from it. It would be notoriously difficult to carry someone taller and more muscular than her. But she had to make do. Eliza could not stay here. She picked up Eliza's belongings -- her dog tags, her bloodstained pants, and her revolver. Without dwelling on them, she shoved them into her pack. She stood in front of Eliza’s now crumpled form, helped lay her flat onto the ground, and efficiently pulled her into a fireman’s carry. “Ugh!” She winced as she tried to stand. Four flights of stairs seemed like a hundred with this woman on her back. Surely there was a better way to do this -- but there wasn't time.

Slowly, Lorelei waddled into the lobby and began to climb. She took each step extremely slowly, already wincing from fatigue with the weight on her back. Each time she climbed a flight, she repositioned Eliza and ensured that the weight was as even as possible. On the last flight, she missed a step and her balance stuttered. “No, no, no.” She swung her body forward to fight the backward propulsion and regained her balance. “Whew.” She continued upstairs, to the third floor where she found an open door to one of the apartments. She shuffled inside as quickly as possible and kicked the door shut behind her. She raced to the bed and gently lay Eliza down. Behind the bedframe, a window facing the ocean was pierced by the limited light from outside.

Lorelei then helped Eliza achieve a comfortable position, pulling her form to the middle of the bed. She set her canteen down on the covers and smiled. “Have as much of it as you’d like. You’re safe.” She once again pushed Eliza’s hair out of her face and adjusted the pillows underneath her head. She emptied Eliza's belongings out of her pack, set the dogtags on an end table, and placed the pants in a corner in the room. looked around the bedroom. She found a frayed armchair and slid it next to the bed, sitting down next to Eliza. She took the woman’s hand in her own and offered a warm, sympathetic smile. “You’re going to live. I’ll make sure of it.”

Every step made Eliza feel as if she was being shot all over again, she tried to maintain her composure but there were a few instances where she left out a loud moan. She knew they would be safer on the third floor though, that's why she set up camp there in the first place. This building was huge, with a countless number of run down and decrepit rooms. With Eliza staying on the third floor she stood a better chance of hearing an intruder before they got to her, but it was moments like these that made her regret the decision. When Lorelei laid Eliza out onto her bed she exhaled heavily and continued to shiver, the nights were cold up here for her.... alone. She never kept a fire going for fear of being discovered, so Eliza piled layers of blankets on top of her worn out mattress, but right now she couldn't even move. Her whole body ached, and her muscles felt like they had been stretched and dried in the sweltering summer sun. Lorelei fortunately covered Eliza up with the assorted blankets and afghans, leaving Eliza's hand slightly exposed while she held it.

Eliza was still shivering as her body struggled to warm itself up, she was frozen to the bone but it put her at ease knowing that she was home now, and that Lorelei seemed to be looking out for her. She even grabbed her things from downstairs, especially the dog-tags, her traveling memorial for the dead. They brought her so much pain, but they were her cross to bear. For now, she chose to focus her attention on Lorelei, the woman appeared to be so caring. With her warm smile and affection. Eliza felt as if she didn't deserve any of it but it still helped to put her mind at ease. She was still afraid to fall asleep, afraid that she wasn't going to wake up or that when she did Lorelei would be gone. Now for one of the few times in her life Eliza was willing to admit that she couldn't get through this on her own, she needed Lorelei and that scared her.

Lorelei waited. She waited for Eliza to drift off into deep sleep, her ice-cold hand still resting in hers. She perused Eliza’s bedroom. It was really something – she’d clearly lived here for a long time. Eliza had evidently converted a living room into a massive, campy bedroom, affixed with breadcrumbs of her hunting lifestyle. Lorelei was still curious as to why Eliza had kept it secret; gunshot wounds aside, the room gave off the aura of a very put-together person. Who knows.

Lorelei remained awake through a majority of the night, ever watchful of Eliza, arbitrarily checking her pulse and reaching under the blanket to survey her two wounds while she slept. She waited. She hadn’t the faintest idea what exactly she was waiting for; it was a peculiar feeling. But the last thing she would do is let herself fall asleep.
Lorelei Jones - Salem Outskirts

“Rook wants to put trust that people are not all bad. Rook has seen many things as well. The Pitt, they made Rook fight for life. Capital Wasteland was hard and unforgiving. York Square is very close to that. Raiders, bandits, and monsters fight and kill those who are honest, hard-working, or simply wanting to be good.”

Lorelei nodded slowly. “I heard legends of the Pitt while I lived in the Capital Wasteland. I am surprised—albeit glad—we did not cross paths in those days. A vast majority of the mutant population near Washington D.C. was openly hostile. I…” she frowned. “I probably would have shot you on sight. As anyone would have.” She somehow managed to rebound back into a warm smile. “Alas, this isn’t the Capital Wasteland. Thank god.”

"Salem has bad past, but has good people. Rook talks to you, and you listen, so you cannot be bad. Lady with plasma gun simply did not understand white flag, was afraid of Rook. Rook understands, he is too handsome to not be intimidated by." He would stand up and smile at the woman. "Rook will return to work now."

After staring blankly at the ground, Lorelei addressed Rook without looking up. Cannot be bad. She shrugged. “You wouldn’t have wanted to meet me five years ago. They call me something else in the west.” She paced around as Rook went back to work. “But this is a new place. A fresh start. Lorelei Jones is supposed to be a ‘good’ person. I suppose we will all learn soon whether this happens to be true.”

Lorelei itched her back underneath her jacket and grimaced, having poked a sensitive, engraved portion of her skin. “They’ll come to love you. But they aren’t used to people of your stature being friendly. Give them time. But be careful. Gun-infused prejudice can only get people hurt.” She looked around and folded her arms. “It was lovely to meet you, Rook…I…I think I’m going to wander around. Sightseeing of some sort. Perhaps I’ll run into someone strong enough to actually contribute with this wall.” She bowed her head. “I’ll see you.”

With that, Lorelei marched back up the hill, rifle slung around her back and desert eagle firmly embedded in its holster. She wandered the outskirts of town, carefully perusing the houses and captivatedly watching various folks move into their new homes. After a while, she moved on, finding herself parallel with a massive pink structure on the outer ring of the town. She watched as a woman crawled into one of the windows, leaving behind a slight blood trail against the brick.

What the hell? Lorelei drew her pistol and walked up to the front door. She knocked and received no answer. She opened it, surprised that it was unlocked, and walked into a dark hallway. She dug into her pocket for her lighter and flipped it, granting a small radius of light. Sure enough, a woman lay against the wall, a cigarette dangling from her mouth. Lorelei hurried over and took a better look at the crumpled form against the wall. It belonged to a young, rather pretty woman, although she had clearly seen much better days. She shook the woman’s shoulder, trying to wake her up, and patted various areas on the woman’s chest looking for the culprit of the bleeding. She found a bullet wound on her gut and the leg-wound was clearly visible. She started to mumble, unsure if the figure had yet woken up.

“…I’m going to need to get you to a doctor.” Lorelei tried to shake the woman’s shoulders again. “Are you all right?” A rather moot question – the answer was clearly a resounding ‘no’. “If you can’t walk, I can help you. The clinic is not far from here.”
Lorelei Jones - Salem Outskirts

“Rook is pleased to meet you. Lorelei Jones is kind to help Rook out. Maybe she can see flaws in Rooks' plans better than he can.” He offered her the water and then went to work again.

Crouching down, he remade his little map, a bit better than the other one in town. “Rook is building defenses for town. Rook has been in the Wastelands for many years, has seen one thing in common with all successful settlements. Walls.” He sounded as if this was ancient wisdom being passed on. “Rook wants to build walls here, and towers, so we can see bad people before they arrive. Salem in good place, with many good things around. Old Man Barney said there is a militia here. They can man towers, Rook does not like to climb. Or swim. Swim is where bad things are.”

Looking at her, he was probably still close to most people’s height while crouched down. “Rook will still help bring up metal boxes from water though. Many good things are in water, and maybe can use it to make more things for Salem to be safe. Rook doesn't want to see Salem hurt. Too many people die because of the Wastelands. Rook not want people here to die either..."

Lorelei furrowed her brows as she looked down upon the water. Nevertheless, she sat down on a stray tire and took a sip from the bowl, watching Rook as he worked. She had an underlying urge to massage the handle of her revolver, watching a super mutant exist in front of her like that, but she kept her hands relaxed upon her lap. The world had made her quick to judge; quick to maneuver out of the way of trust. But perhaps Salem was her window to become something else. Only time would tell. The mutant seemed only to want to help, and to be kind, which was something she could not yet say about the others.

After a minute of watching Rook move objects around, she slowly nodded. “You have a good vision, but I think you have too high of expectations for this ‘people’s militia’. It’s a mixed bag, from what I’ve seen so far.” She sighed. “I’ve seen much of the country, though. It’s always like this. You’ve got a few folks who are trying to act like pillars of the community, and then you’ve got the ones who love to play god. And then people can’t tell who-from-who, and then you have yourself a mess.”

Lorelei sighed and ran her fingers through her dark brown hair, currently held up in a messy bun. She took another sip from the bowl of water. “I suppose I’m not righteous in criticizing them; I’ve never been the type to enlist to protect others…I’m more of a wanderer than someone who can be depended on.” She shrugged. “But they look like they need serious help, so perhaps I’ll help keep watch for them. You can’t go wrong with a night on a rooftop with a scope and a bottle of scotch.”

Finally, Lorelei stood up off the tire and considered Rook’s handiwork instead of the manual labor he was executing. She walked over to where he was working. “You’re right, the ‘wall’ is what will protect this place, but we will need more than that. We’re out on a peninsula. It would be easy for us to be trapped. We need a few working boats in case of evacuation, and we need outside patrols to keep an eye on the activity. But that will have to come later. Your ‘wall' is a good start.” She offered a light smile.
Lorelei Jones - Town Square

“Hi...err...Welcome to Salem I’m Steve cooper, good to see that more people are arriving” Steve stated as he held his hand out to shake. “Me and my business partner John Kaye are setting up a drug store and brothel in town... if you ever need some chemical help or... som er-“Steve somewhat awkwardly tried to pitch to Lorelei but was distracted by gun fire...

Lorelei seemingly paid no attention to the conflict in the square, perhaps having been numb to the prospects of gunfire. She pursed her lips and narrowed her brow. Her raspy voice was quiet and direct. “Chemical help?” She smirked. “…The town hasn’t even been fully-built and you’re already trying to peddle drugs?” Lorelei let loose a weak chuckle, masqueraded by her breaths, and then met eyes with Steve. The eye contact didn’t last long.

“Stay here... I’m gonna check this out.”

Lorelei watched Salem's token Dr. Feelgood stroll away, but she did not linger on it. She watched the conflict with intrigue, especially the large green man who referred to himself as ‘Rook’. She waited around, even after the crowd dispersed and mutant left, quietly hoping that someone would come to say hello without the ‘hello’ being a loaded statement, packed with a substance proposition. No dice. She stood up and started to wander the other portions of the town, leaving Steve and the others behind.

“Rook not be beaten by metal cart!”

It was the mutant, again. The aggravated holler came from the edge of town. Rook was up to something else. Perhaps if Lorelei had actually listened to what the folks in the square were squabbling about, she’d have known. She strolled in the direction of the reverberating yell.

After a few minutes, Lorelei found herself at the top of the hill, looking down upon an interesting scene – Rook was moving a set of sandbags, arranging them in a way to make it so they could keep someone in town protected from bullets. He repeated the process of moving the cars next, positioning them on either side of the road.

Lorelei waved down at him. She raised her thin, bony arms in the air, showing off her imaginary muscles. “How about you let me move those instead?” She had her usual shit-eating grin on her face, spurred by a refusal to show teeth but an inability to keep her lips from raising into a reluctant smile. She trekked down the hill, carefully ensuring that the slope did not get the best of her traction. She clumsily picked up speed on her way down, but managed to retain control.

After another few seconds of watching, Lorelei walked over to where Rook was working and folded her arms. “Lorelei Jones, at your service,” she said with simultaneous sincerity and satire. She knew she’d be of no help but she had to at least offer. She was being uncharacteristically friendly, but perhaps it was just the ‘third life’ debacle that spurred her to be more ostentatious and chatty. She outstretched her arm, as if to shake the mutant’s hand. She didn’t half-expect to get a handshake in return, but she offered anyway.
For your approval.


Lorelei Jones - Outside the Jones Residence

Lorelei folded her arms and stared down the withered two-story home at the edge of the town. Barney had pointed her toward the various empty plots, and particularly recommended this one. She could see why. This house was a lonely one; a perfect fit for a gradual misanthrope like herself. It was nothing like the home she had lost, but it would do. She meandered over the door and opened it, the ruined wood porch creaking underneath her light steps.

This will need work. The place was a disaster. There were a few amenities, namely a leftover couch, broken television, a ruined kitchen, and a few armchairs, but the rest was disgusting. Trash and grime had built up just about everywhere she looked, and the paint that once resided within the house had been shed off by the walls that once wore it.

Lorelei gingerly tiptoed upstairs, carefully testing the ground for nails and dislodged pieces of wood. The second floor featured two bedrooms, a restroom, and what appeared to be some sort of office space. More old world furniture rested here. Both bedrooms were equipped with dusty old doublebeds and the office held a desk, pointed at the back window which faced the ocean.

This was an underrated amenity, Lorelei realized – the ocean rested directly behind her home. A weak, inconsistent fence sat between her house and the slight rocky outcropping which overlooked the water, but she had an unobstructed line of sight toward the ocean wherever she looked. She tossed her pack onto the bed and sat down, scanning the room for the work she would have to do. Nonsense. This would come later. For now, she had to introduce herself at least somewhat to the town, even if it meant standing around the square and watching the others talk.

Lorelei left the house and lazily strolled toward the square, where the local tenants darted to and fro, moving in their belongings and laying claim to the town. She looked up at the massive apartment structures and perused the various abandoned vendor stands in the center. She could imagine them filled with people, a town clutching to life. However, now was the time for them to lay down the bricks, to which she had little interest. She was at her best when she was wandering – the house would just be a formality.

After a few moments of standing at the edge of the square, Lorelei decided to sit on a park bench and watch the passersby as she cleaned the barrel of her rifle atop her lap.
Lorelei Jones - Outside of Salem

In the landscape of her imagination, Lorelei was home again. As per usual, she dreamt about the most horrifying catastrophe her life would ever know – the harrowing pillar of smoke over the horizon, on that unforgettable afternoon near Silverton. After seeing the same dreadful afternoon more than a hundred times, she was no longer shocked to bear witness to the unsubtle signature of the fire that consumed her family. She did not sprint to the source, as she had in the original memory; instead, she slowed her steps.

All the previous iterations of the recurring nightmare had ended in the exact same way; no matter how she proceeded, she would find her way to the burned husk of her home and the charred silhouette of her daughter. But, if she could at least try to slow her steps; try to delay the inevitable flagellation her mind had in store for itself, then perhaps she could alleviate the dream in some way.

No. There would be none of that. Lorelei was not allowed to play bystander to her own memory. It was against the rules. Whether she wanted to or not, she found her way to the house – her once beautiful, refurbished Levittown quarter-acre, now reduced to rubble. The second floor of the house had collapsed, leaving a pile of debris caged inside the skeleton of the house’s frame. It had become something far too grotesque to be a home – it was a giant tombstone dedicated to her attempt at a new life.

Lorelei stepped onto the rubble. Her subconscious brain flawlessly recreated the atmosphere – the same ash-infested air pricked at her lungs. Her mild attempt at rose-garden had been demolished by the collapse. The patio she built had withered into nothing underneath the flames. Everything about this place had dissolved.

Inevitably, Lorelei stepped into the skeleton of the house and the crown jewel of the dream lay before her. The burned form of a small human lay before her. No. No. No, no, no. She could not see this again. She fell to her knees, the rocky terrain scraping against her knee. No. Not again. She tried to cover her eyes, but the image had been burned into her brain. It had always been there. It had come to define everything about her. Not again. Please.

Right on cue, Lorelei’s real eyes fluttered open and her conscious mind jolted awake – a portal from one nightmare to another. These episodes had become slightly easier to shrug off over the years, but put in perspective, this meant nothing. She still viciously fought the urge to sleep, and as per tradition, once she had been deprived for long enough, she lost. She kicked off the blanket and rolled onto the hardwood floor. Dream-torment aside, she had set up camp in a tall building a half-mile from the hollow shell of a town that was once known as “Salem”, many years before her time.

Lorelei recalled her father's musings about the ‘witch trials’ somewhere among his final days. He was fascinated with the brutality and mystery of it. He was superstitious. She was not. But the fact that dozens of nobodies were picking this strange slice of ruin to call home captivated her interest. She had been watching them, through her scope. She grabbed her rifle resumed her watch. There was little of interest; a few other newcomers had happened by, but there seemed to be no chance of dark magic on the horizon. Boring.

God rest his soul, but father was wrong about this place. Lorelei collapsed the blanket and shoved it into her pack. There were no cruel energies at work here. But maybe—just maybe—the enigmatic mythology of this town would make for a good place to hide. She’d given up on rebuilding her life. She had to wipe the slate clean. She had to begin again. For a third time. She grabbed her things and abandoned her makeshift watchtower, starting toward the town. It didn’t take long for her to run into ‘civilization.’

“You there!” hollered a hoarse male voice. A figure emerged from one of the ruined buildings on the outskirts of the town.

Lorelei simply stared him down. An older bloke, armed with a rifle not terribly unlike her own and wearing a smug look on his face, carefully shuffled toward her.

“Are you here to help us build the future?”

Is that what they’re calling this? Lorelei narrowed her eyes at him and gave a very slight shrug of her shoulders.

“Do you even know what you’ve stumbled upon, lass?”

Lorelei nodded.

“Then I’d suppose I should welcome you to Salem, then.”

She nodded again.

“The name’s Barney. Pleased to meetcha’.” The oddly friendly and cordial man offered his hand.

Lorelei stared at the extended arm and did nothing. She looked him dead in the face and nodded a third time.

“You mute or something?”

“No.”

“Then can you tell me your name?”

“Lorelei.”

“A rather pretty name, if you don’t mind me saying,” Barney muttered.

“Hmph.” Lorelei folded her arms.

“You’re probably wondering if you can come in.”

Lorelei nodded again.

“Yes. I implore you to explore the possibilities this slice of Boston has to offer. A great home could be waiting for you,” said Barney.

“Uh huh.” Lorelei. Her gaze darted past the older bloke and toward the mass of buildings behind him.

“You are free to choose one of the empty houses and give it a test run. You like it, you can stay. You don’t, and you can leave! It’s failproof.”

“Nothing is failproof,” said Lorelei. Her rather morbid assertion did not seem to dampen Barney’s spirits at all. The man smiled at her and pointed toward what she presumed to be the “Salem” in question.

Lorelei bowed her head in quiet thanks and brushed past Barney. Past the forgotten ruins and toward the cursed town. This was it. Her third life. Try not to squander it.
© 2007-2024
BBCode Cheatsheet