Crashing

[Jay Carpenter]

Jay nodded, and before he could stop himself, he was talking about the story of his great-grandparents buying the first of the farm. They’d immigrated during WWII, seeking asylum in the US, and ended up staying. The stories stopped about there, though. He did grow up on the farm, but he didn’t say anything else about it. Scenes with horses flashed his head. The barn. The cattle. Early mornings and after school chores. Pie and Thanksgiving dinner. It seemed to blur all at once. Settling eventually on that single moment, mid-bite of apple pie, when he made the best decision of his life. Made a few questionable ones since. Like blowing the brains out of a nobody drug lord with a brother who turned out to be double the Evil Nombre as the first. Tearing up the body with his bayonet was a good call though. Fucker had it coming.

Hard to imagine Seven on a horse. He grinned just thinking about it. He would have been a fancy rider, no doubt. Probably with those white pants and shiny black boots. Though Jay was a little jealous of those boots. Probably some kind of members only horserider club. He couldn’t say why, but Seven just felt like he came from money. Even if his parents named him after a number. Probably millennial hippies.

Stockholm explained a lot. Least of which the accent.
“First time meeting anyone from Stockholm. That I know anyway. I’ve never been that way. Other than the States, most of my service was in South America and later in western Africa.” He shrugged. Not particularly wanting to talk about it. Though he knew the next question would be what he did for a job. If the service word didn’t give it away, it was better to say it out right before the line of questions started to pour out.
“I was in the United States marines. It was a long time ago,” he added. Years ago to be exact. On one hand, it felt like yesterday, and on another it felt like he’d lived an entire lifetime since then. The Legion. Meeting Natalie. Moscow. Ascendancy. The Dominions.

Speaking of not long ago, it felt like last weekend he was at the bar a few miles outside base, telling as many stories as he was allowed to share about the marines. Nights that ended up with hours of karaoke and a tab of shots a mile long. Waking up the next day happy and hungover and dreading report on Monday morning.

Shit, what an idiot. An asshole. And an idiot. But glory days no less.

And like that base bar, there were a few “entertainment clubs” of their own around that he wouldn’t say no to a drop in.
“A strip club? I won’t say no to that,” he nudged Seven with his elbow. “Wouldn’t have pegged you for that kind of place,” he said with a jab of a grin. “But if it’s anything weird, I’ll need a few shots first.”

[Seven]

He listened as Jay spoke. Seven’s attention was focused and even. He nodded as the picture unfolded and asked insightful yet respectful questions along the way. Following his previous blunder, he made it a point to expand the circle of awareness. Jay’s mannerisms oscillated like a pendulum, he discovered. In one moment, he spoke with an animation that even a movie could not capture the image at hand. Yet soon a shadow would settle over him in a way that Seven thought to be the distance of far-away sadness. He tried to imagine Jay as a child loose on the fields of a farm, roping horses and riding tractors. He imagined Jay was rather wild as a boy. Not so much as irresponsible, although the streak was more than hinted upon, but daring and fearless. Maybe it was because Seven’s own childhood had been so protected that even the barest hint of freedom felt like wild exuberance in comparison. It made him smile to think of it.

Eventually, Jay revealed his enlistment in the United States military. Seven nodded with brows raised, properly impressed. He hadn’t the opportunity to do any research on his new friend, not that he was being inappropriate with any such searches, but if he had, then Seven was sure to encounter the revelation. Yet he enjoyed learning about people the old-fashioned way, through the art of conversation.

“That explains your many travels. I am not so worldly as that,” Seven laughed in comparison. “I’ve not even ventured outside the CCD,” he said. Of course, the CCD covered continents now, but Seven wasn’t being coy. He had traveled through the Dominances, but not all of them, and there were others he still desired to see.

From a farmer to a soldier, Seven tried to picture Jay in that world. It wasn’t hard, he found himself thinking while they conversed at a street crossing, waiting for the signal to offer passage. Jay was taller than Seven himself, and broader in the shoulder despite Seven’s commitment to the gym. It wasn’t physique really. It was the intensity of his gaze and the confidence of his walk.

“I imagine the story of how you came to be here is a fascinating one,” Seven said with a smile. “Maybe it’s a tale for another night,” he added. “Because while it’s not a strip club,” Seven laughed with the sort of nod that said he wouldn’t mind as much either, “I am no stranger to a shot myself,” he then turned to an ally and approached an undesignated door. It opened as he presented himself and spoke with the person on the other side. It was only a few swipes of tech to confirm his admittance, pay the cover, and they were swallowed up by the unknown.

[Seven]

Jay and Seven continued here

[Jay Carpenter]

[[Yes I posted in the wrong thread. Its in the right spot now. Uhh, follow Seven's link above.]]