Ain't No Thing Like Me But Me

Indeed, the smile falls away, his mouth setting into a grim line. “…c’mon inside, Syl.” His dwelling is comfortable enough, if not somewhat messy. Baby sits in the middle of the living room on a spread of cardboard, surrounded by various parts that Rico had found. He was always looking for ways to improve his beloved bike, and every so often he found something shinier or more powerful that would work on her. By this point, she was truly one of a kind.

He gestures her to a couch, and sits in a chair across.

“…you probably know I’m gonna say this, but I don’t think it’s a good idea. At all. Not after last time, Syl.”

“I know, love. And you must know that I do not say this lightly.” She takes the offered seat, hands folded calmly on her lap. “I do not like it, but I believe it may be necessary for our survival. Please listen to me.”

Sylvie breathes in slowly, trying to line up her words. This is something that she has not told anyone in the Enclave until this very moment.

“You remember, of course, when the Enclave was dying. We had no idea then what may have caused it, but I noticed that it healed after others crossed over into our world. Powerful others.”

She glances into Rico’s face to make sure he’s paying attention, then continues.

She would trust him with her life. Heaven knows he’d already saved it once before.

Indeed, the smile falls away, his mouth setting into a grim line. “…c’mon inside, Syl.” His dwelling is comfortable enough, if not somewhat messy. Baby sits in the middle of the living room on a spread of cardboard, surrounded by various parts that Rico had found. He was always looking for ways to improve his beloved bike, and every so often he found something shinier or more powerful that would work on her. By this point, she was truly one of a kind.

He gestures her to a couch, and sits in a chair across.

“…you probably know I’m gonna say this, but I don’t think it’s a good idea. At all. Not after last time, Syl.”

“I know, love. And you must know that I do not say this lightly.” She takes the offered seat, hands folded calmly on her lap. “I do not like it, but I believe it may be necessary for our survival. Please listen to me.”

Sylvie breathes in slowly, trying to line up her words. This is something that she has not told anyone in the Enclave until this very moment.

“You remember, of course, when the Enclave was dying. We had no idea then what may have caused it, but I noticed that it healed after others crossed over into our world. Powerful others.”

She glances into Rico’s face to make sure he’s paying attention, then continues.

He was not going to like this.

Sylvie exhaled, pausing with her hand raised. He would be absolutely right under any other circumstance, likely with any other candidate. After all, he’d been right on the money before, and her failure to heed his warnings had left one dead and nearly destroyed everyone else. But this was different.

At least, she hoped it was.

No, he’s definitely not going to like this. She regrets losing that smile of his – heaven knows it’s rare enough as it is – but this is important.

He gestures her to a couch, and sits in a chair across.

He was not going to like this.

Sylvie exhaled, pausing with her hand raised. He would be absolutely right under any other circumstance, likely with any other candidate. After all, he’d been right on the money before, and her failure to heed his warnings had left one dead and nearly destroyed everyone else. But this was different.

At least, she hoped it was.

[PREVIOUS]

There was a groan of protest inside, but a few seconds later, Sylvie answered the door, wrapped in a dressing gown and blinking the sleep from her eyes.

“Rico, what–” she began before the rest of her sentence dropped away at the sight before her and she gasped, staring at the light that now cascaded over the trees.

The sense of relief cloaking the younger man is utterly palpable. He wasn’t going to be left here alone. As independent as he could be, that was the last thing he wanted.

“RICO! RICO, WAKE UP!”

If the sound of Martina’s frantic voice didn’t stir his sleep, then perhaps the pounding on his door would. Outside, the girl stood panting, clearly having run all the way up the rickety bridges that led to the cliffside hollow where he lived.

“Right?!” Her voice came out in an excited squeal. “I came in here to drop some stuff off before my classes, and then I saw… THAT.”

She pointed towards the horizon, where a thin line of gold highlighted the edges of the black cliffs, glowing against a pale orange sky.

“RICO! RICO, WAKE UP!”

If the sound of Martina’s frantic voice didn’t stir his sleep, then perhaps the pounding on his door would. Outside, the girl stood panting, clearly having run all the way up the rickety bridges that led to the cliffside hollow where he lived.

As the Enclave’s residents and its unexpected guest slept into the night, something shifted in the dying world, imperceptible and yet significant, as though a switch had been flipped somewhere in the midst of a giant machine.

For the first time in weeks, the still air began to stir, brushing the dry leaves on the trees so they shivered and clattered, and then swooping down to touch the tips of the browned grass, bending them playfully.

A single drop of water fell from the cliff into the muddy riverbed. Then another followed it, splattering on a rock. Then came a third, and then a fourth and a fifth and a sixth, until they became a trickle, and a trickle became a thin stream splashing on the rocks and stirring up the silt at the bottom.

He smelled the air- fresher. It was not as stagnant as it’d become, and his keen ears could hear the rustle of dried out leaves and withered grass. The splashing of water. His sharp senses detected life. Not just the lives of the people here who’d been trying to eke out a living from the dwindling resources, but new life, fresh life,as if something’d resuscitated the little pocket of existence that he called home.

Yes, something was different. Something had changed. What, Rico didn’t know. But if it brought viability back to the Enclave, he didn’t really care.

He’d hate to be stuck here all alone.

refugee-from-reality:

Presently, a figure walked in. Hunched a bit, sullen faced. A knapsack, barely full, was on his back and two empty sacks in his hands. Brown grass crunched protestingly under his boots as he approached the woman, stopped next to her, and breathed out a sigh. “Slim pickin’s out there.” There was a time when Rico Black would go out scavenging among the lost things that somehow wound up around the landscape and come back with all his bags full to bursting with supplies and interesting whatnots. Valuables, clothes, food, drink, gadgets, toys, you name it- they would show up in the strangest places like children’s plastic colored eggs in springtime. Made for a well stocked bar, in any rate. Or at least it used to. Lately, Rico’s scavenging trips had been less and less fruitful. He gestures to his pack. “This’ all I could come up with, Syl. An’ I’ve been out for hours, goin’ through every last inch’a the bloody place. This rate, ‘m going t’ have to lift provisions from the outside.”

“Thank you, Rico.” The woman smiled at him, but she could not well disguise the swell of worry that his news had brought her. The random appearances of supplies were what sustained the few people who lived in this otherworldly valley, and if that was drying up along with the natural life…

She let out an exhale.

“I do not like this. Something is not right. The Enclave has never been this barren, in all these years.”

He scuffs his toe at the dried up grass. Not even Sylvie’s special gift seems to be helping and Rico’s never known it to NOT help. The weak, the worn down, the exhausted... nothing she touched with her talent went away without being perked up, rejuvenated.

Until now, anyway. “This keeps up... if it doesn’t get better... you’re gonna have t’ go, aren’t you?”

Sylvie frowned to herself, kneeling to get a better look. Waist-length blonde hair, streaked with silver, fell over her shoulder like a ghostly curtain as she tested the ground with a hand. Her thin white fingers came away smudged with dust, and her frown deepened, crinkling the crow’s feet at the corners of her eyes.

Bone-dry, just like it had been a few days ago. And harder now, too. Raising her head, she cast a look back at the valley, once lush and green but now browning at the edges despite even her best efforts. The lake was turning into mud, the leaves on the trees were becoming brown and brittle, and most distressing of all, her prized garden was dying. Even the breeze had stopped, hanging dead and still.

It was almost as though the life were slowly draining from the entire area.

Sylvie stood, looking beyond the field towards the small cluster of dilapidated buildings nestled in the black rocks. In her many years in this place, she had seen plenty of ups and downs, but never in her memory had conditions ever been this bad. Doubtless the others had noticed as well, and if they hadn’t, it was only a matter of time before they began to worry.

Approaching one of the trees, she pressed her palm to the bark, and a faint glow outlined her hand for an instant before the tree subtly shook, leaves turning just a little greener than before. She sighed, glancing around at the drying grove. She couldn’t keep doing this forever; it was only delaying the inevitable.

BLEACHERS - I WANNA GET BETTER