Welcome to Gaia! ::

The Commander raised an eyebrow in an expression that would have been bemused if his voice hadn't been heavy as chains rooting Ramsden to the spot. "Boy, you got yer brains packed so full a sh!t it sounds like it's spillin' outta yer mouth. I didn't say y' could leave," Brighton growled, the sound low and dangerous. He met Ramsden's eyes levelly from under his eyebrows. "You don't go 'bout arguin' with me if yer gonna talk like I was born earlier this mornin' even if Jacobson does make half my men act like their d!cks are divinin' rods; I'm more'n past my houndin' days so don't act like you think she can push me where her ***** pleases." Somewhere, a lyricist rolled in his grave for the alliteration. Apparently, Brighton's qualms about language had been cured when Juno assured him she had no issues with it.

Henry's tone could be compared to a molasses avalanche: it neither crashed nor tumbled, but it flowed smoothly and constantly, and nothing could stand in its way. "If it ain't occurred to the half a neuron that's firin' at will up there in that sh!t-stained birdcage you call a skull, then lemme enlighten you - you ain't comin' back, leastways not for any long stint. I just value you too damn much to take away the title 'cuz yer right - you done us more'n a little good since y' been here. I 'pologize I misspoke." Here, he did pause, to look meaningfully at the younger man and let his gaze soften nigh imperceptibly - from stainless steel to the regular kind. "I'll tell you more 'bout what I want when you phone in from Glenville. Now get the hell outta my office and don't give orders to Miss Galedeigh. Good luck t' y' both and don' die, 'cuz my hide'll be on the line and I don' plan on gettin' scienced to death."

He then proceeded to open a file and lose all interest in both of his visitors. It was time to send out some spies.

---

The captive seethed at Jason and spit in his face. He struggled, to no avail. He growled and cursed and continued prophesying doom, but he gave no information. Eventually, he strained hard enough that all of his groaning and growling was reduced to a wheezing pant as he nearly choked himself into passing out again.

As it turned out, there was no car nearby that a cursory glance would find. Woodmount had hoarded an impressive store of motorcycles, though, if any of the three gathered could divine how best to circumnavigate the layers of paperwork that borrowing one generally entailed. They were kept in a warehouse not far from Madelyn's own - in fact, only half a mile or so west of where she lived on the east side of town. A pair of guards with growlithes and rifles stood on either end of the fifty meter long, thirty meter wide, aluminum building, at the only two doors made for human access.

Juno realized there was a lot more to this story that she did not know. It was a good reminder not to take everything at face value and to always get the two sides of the story....that is, if she ever even got the full story. She doubted that though, so she kept her mouth shut and listened to the two men speak while picking up several bits of info.

So...Brighton had been at fault for misspeaking. Oops to Ramsden then, she'd need to apologize for that. How did Amaya get involved? Juno never felt like the woman liked her being around, but they'd never really spoken. Did Amaya have a manipulation issue maybe? And Ramsden. Oh boy. He enjoyed killing? What the hell?

She did like that the Commander stood up for her in his speech. When they were dismissed, Juno gave Brighton one last hug. "Don't burst a blood vessel while we're out. I'd hate to come back and make fun of you for being an old man." She did worry that he was going to get an aneurism from his anger but trusted that he would take care of himself...probably.

She left to go pack her own stuff. It hadn't been a long walk to her house where she immediately walked to her room and grabbed her bugout bag. She stuffed a pair of cargo shorts and white shirt before deciding that she needed to change her own clothes while she was there. Gone were the jeans and brown shirt - she traded them in for khaki cargo pants and a plain dark brown shirt. A pair of boots, a dark blue bandanna around her neck, a watch, and 3 hair bands around her wrist completed her look. It was times like this that she was glad her military-oriented uncle really didn't know about girl's fashion. When she came to live with him, he'd based her clothes off the ones he wore...except smaller. And from the female section of the store. Needless to say, she never became a very feminine girl in her time with him nor did she care about fashion. It was always about practicality.

She packed her bag with a first aid kit (which also contained a mini-sewing kit and matches), a bag of jerky, dried fruit, swiss army knife, flashlight, sharpies, and a small notebook. She kept her gun on her, and had a bag hanging from her belt whose sole purpose was to hold her slingshot ammo. The slingshot was held in a different pocket. This might have been overkill for a simple day trip, but Juno believed in being prepared for the worst.

On her way to Ramsden's bike, she stopped by the stockroom and got herself 2 extra magazines for her gun. They went in a separate pocket. She even got a holster for the gun, because really, why not?

"Hey sorry I'm late..." Juno saw Ramsden standing by his bike. "Didn't think I took too long with the packing. We gonna check on Toby before leaving? 'Cause he was supposed to go too and if we arrive in Glenville without him, they're probably gonna want an explanation for it." She paused. "And uh, what was with the whole 'I like to kill' thing back at the office? Was that exaggerated any?" She was a curious girl at the best of times, and to say he enjoyed killing was more than enough to pique her curiosity.

Ulysses had heard enough. He had been about to walk away, but when the man just droned on and on... It was too much. The geezer turned the hundred and eighty degrees to face his captive and drove the butt of the shotgun into the "holy man's" temple with all his might and a grunt of exertion; he didn't want to risk leaving the man conscious.

That settled, he looked at the two young men. "I'm sorry, but I really must emphasize the fact that we're on a tight schedule. If your pokémon finds nothing, I would have to suggest we head south from here. The motorpool or train station seem our best bets given the circumstances."

And without further ado, he began walking. He didn't expect the wandering worshiper to have any means of transportation beyond his own two feet. Gloria strode along at his right. Djinn bobbed after them, but was facing Schraeder. He came up with all sorts of odd ways to beckon the young man: spinning upside down and "waving" Stetson on with his foot, gesturing dramatically with a tongue large enough to wrap up an infant, and even nodding toward Ulysses and gesturing emphatically with his nonexistent eyebrows. The last on that list was particular boggling because the act warped his mischievous glare into the sort of suggestive glance that was once regularly found in clubs and bars repelling women from creepy go-getter types.

((I didn't Godmod like a mofo here. This was done on AIM between myself and Isa.))

Ramsden pulled a cigarette from one of the packs he brought with him and lit it up. He took a drag and sighed the smoke out. "Well, this day was coming eventually. Juno, I'm a Minuteman. What's a Minuteman's job Juno?" Juno stared at Ramsden, not sure what he was trying to get at.
"I get that a soldier's job is to kill. Doesn't mean that everyone relishes in killing."

"No, no it doesn't. But not everyone's job as a soldier is to kill. Some incapacitate, some take-down, only some kill, and even fewer when it's not necessary. Me? I'm different. I don't know why Juno, but I like to kill. Some people threaten, fewer deliver. I don't even bother with the first part. When someone fights me with the intent to even just take me down... they die. It's only people who plan harm though. I'm not a murderer Juno. I protect people. I kill to never allow those who would harm to harm again. I just ahppen to really enjoy what I do." He took a long drag and let it out. "The bullshit reason by the way... They want me out because I kill in sick ways. There's a line in killing, and I cross it, everytime. So because I do my job exceptionally well, I guess I can't be around. You don't have to worry though. I never even playfully threaten allies. You'll be very safe with me. I've almost died over five times to save an ally, I'll do the same for you."

Juno didn't say anything for a few seconds. "I see." She didn't fully understand it, but she wasn't going to condemn him either. Murder was murder regardless of reason, but she understood the feeling of wanting to kill. It was a question of morals and one that could be debated at a later time. For now, she had to focus on what was in front of her. "You've yet to scare me or hurt me, so hey. I still trust you. That's all I got to say about it right now." She half smiled. "Now what about Toby?"

"And I swear to you I never will. Now, about Toby," he finished his cigarette and flicked the butt away. "We'll head over to the hospital and see what's going on with him. If he's still unconcious Glenville can deal with it. I can't imagine something more dangerous than transporting an unconcious child on a motorcycle- well that's a lie yes I can but not much." He hopped up onto the bike and looked back at her. "Any more questions or do you wanna head out?"
"Nope, we're good for now." She responded.

"Alright then, let's go see him. Hop on. Oh, and mind the bag, there's a glass bottle in it and I'm gonna be pretty ticked off if everything get's covered in whiskey." He shifted the shotgun and the pack on his back to make better better room for Juno. He also took care to mind his language around her now that he'd calmed down and actually cared... a little.

((This is to explain how and why Juno knows the stuff she knows/has the stuff she has. Otherwise, it doesn't really add to the present moment.))

Juno nodded as she got on the bike and waited for them to arrive at the hospital where Toby should be. As they drove, the two people were silent. She didn't know why Ramsden was, nor did she really care to find out at the moment. Juno preferred to think about Toby and whether he was alright or not. Introspection could happen later.

She sneezed once on the trip and thought nothing of it.

-------------

Back at home, an older man was sitting at the kitchen table staring at a note his niece had left for him. He had been up all night doing work and only now was he able to get a break. His hands held a simple note stating where Juno had gone and why, the date, and a small token of "don't get shot while I'm gone." Brian Galladeigh sighed as he stared at the simple piece of paper. Even though it had been in joke form, he knew his niece had been entirely serious. Last time he got shot, she screeched so high at the sight of his wound, he was pretty sure the window cracked.

While rereading the note several times, he wondered if he was a terrible uncle.

When William, his younger brother, had died...well that was when everything changed. He waved goodbye to his bachelorhood without ever looking back - it was all about protecting what little was left of his family. William may not have had a clue how to raise a little girl, but he would be damned if he abandoned family. So he treated her the only way he knew how to treat kids: he treated her like a mini-version of his brother. They were soldiers at heart, and the thought never occurred that she might not want to be one. When her clothes wore away, he went to the store and bought her clothes that he and his brother would have worn (but in her size and gender). When her shoes tore, he bought her a pair of boots that any soldier would be proud to wear (forgetting to ask whether she even wanted boots or if she had another pair of shoes in mind). When Juno got angry or depressed, he took her out to the range to shoot or give her self defense lessons (she never argued when he taught her moves or gave her advice for aiming). When she finally had to deal with the time of month...well he dealt with it like a man (he sent her to Nayana). He was treating her as a mini-soldier, and the teen had never complained.

Brian was able to keep all of the family heirlooms and the majority of his brother's supplies. Gun holsters, personal weapons and army supplies were among the practical items that he kept though he did let Juno use the supplies so long as she told him about it. The guns were kept out her reach unless he was around - she'd get them when she was older.

She had the makings of a soldier. He'd been training her like one and the determined glint in her eye reminded him so much of her father. But maybe that wasn't what she'd wanted or needed from Brian. Maybe she just wanted to act like a regular kid and not know how to disable a man in 10 different ways with simple everyday items. Maybe she wanted to be girly rather than practical. Though the girl was strongly opinionated, she never ever complained about how he raised her. He wondered if that might have been because she feared being abandoned and not because he'd been a good uncle.

He held on to the note and went to his bedroom. ******** this s**t, he was damned tired. Doubt was not a luxury he could afford. In his nightstand drawer, he stuffed the note amongst the many that she'd written to him before. No...maybe he wouldn't win Uncle of the Year award, but Juno always ended those notes with "Love you" and she wouldn't do that if she didn't mean it.

Right before he fell asleep, he smiled. Regardless of whether he felt like was a good uncle or not, they loved each other. Come heaven or hell, they'd be there for one another. And maybe that was all that mattered.

"Sounds good. We'll see you there." Maddy hung up rather suddenly, but that was basically completely fine. Her comment on the other kid's lack of sight had taken him aback, but she did things like that all the time. It didn't matter too much anyway.

"Okay, so," he began, moving over to the table and sitting heavily across from Alyssa. "If you're sure you want to do this, we're going to be meeting up with a friend of mine near the Grove, then heading north to Glenville. I assume you're still up for this." Paul had warmed a bit to the idea of the trip once he realized he wouldn't just be protecting the one very, very odd person he'd picked up. No, instead he'd be traveling with two very, very odd people. So much better. At least it'd be amusing.

The trip wasn't too long, either. So long as he didn't run into marauders (he would, he knew) it would take three or four hours. With marauders, it would probably be five or six plus a few rounds of 7.62mm NATO ammunition exhausted at ranges the marauders couldn't compete at. Paul had faced many opponents, and he'd seen snipers from Woodmount who couldn't hold a candle to him, but out in the open they always seemed to be carrying light, short-ranged weapons, which just made picking them off at distances pathetically easy. There was a first time for everything, though.

Alyssa, even eating at her slowest, was nearly done when Paul finally sat down. She looked up at him, her eyes bearing into him in much the same way as they had last night.

"I never said I was sure, but I will go." She took another bite and revelled in it, "I will need to get my things, a bag, just down the road," another bite, shoved to the corner of her mouth so as not to interfere with her talking, "should not take long, just point me through safest way."

She then sucked on the piece and looked away from Paul. She knew this sausage might come back to bite her in the a** (quite literally) but damn it beat nothing at all.

"I tied my bag in the trees," she said, a little sudden, as if thinking aloud and not addressing anyone, but who she was addressing was answered when Alyssa fixed those yellow pupils of hers on Paul's, "so nothing could get to it, nothing IS out here right, but you, of course, and...Zoidberk?"

She asked more to gauge whether or not there would be anything trying to get at her back pack (which, apart from some items she had to trade, contained things only she would value), and if so, then she would probably require help.

She hated admitting that and it made her face at the next bite look like she tasted something funny.

"Is this sausage Rattata?"