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 Posted: Fri Jul 16, 2010 10:42 am
Sally Chu had what was best described as a "cartoon face." Big, dark eyes, a flexible mouth, and brows that were far more expressive than brows ever ought to be. She walked around campus with a devious sort of grin on her face that made anyone who passed her think she was up to no good, when really she was thinking up scandalous fanfiction about her favorite television characters.
She could also be heard a mile away.
"Heyyyyyyyyyy," Sally called cheerfully to Ashlyn from across the study lounge. In one hand she was dragging her book bag across the floor, in the other she balanced a tray from the caf, loaded with two plates of lo mein and two cans of soda and threatening to tip. Sally ignored the shushes aimed at her and traipsed across the room, settling in next to her friend.
She set down the tray, nudged one of the plates towards Ashlyn, and gobbled a few mouthfuls of noodles. She swallowed and looked towards her friend. "Eat," she urged. "It's the greasy americano version, but if my mom sent it from home it would be cold and slimy."
She reached into her bag and pulled out a well-beaten moleskine, which she tapped a pencil on while Ashlyn chewed.
"So," said Sally, "Who were all those weirdos you were playing tour guide for yesterday?"
Sally spent as much of her time on weekends in Oldpeka as she did studying. Actually, probably more.
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Posted: Fri Jul 16, 2010 11:14 am
Ashlyn did not like writing for 'Politically Correct Prose'. There was something so utterly empty about calling yuppie scum 'upper class civilians', and the teacher had no taste for her colorful form of description. Day by day, her collection of graded papers with '0--See me after class' written across the top in red ink continued to grow, and at this rate she was going, she was going to have to drop a class that she really couldn't afford the class. 'Ms. Catigern,' she could hear her academic advisor droll, 'It is important that you do well in these entry level classes so we can place you in the best major for your strengths.' Idly, Ashlyn wondered if 'Dropping Classes' was a major.
It's not like she could help it: everything seemed to pale in comparison when she thought about the Game.
Once upon a time, hearing Sally's catcall of a greeting would have caused Ashlyn to look up, maybe even call out something in response, but as it was, she was too busy thinking of the politically correct term for 'gene modders', since they were a subject the media rarely liked to cover. She accepted the tray with a well-practiced sweep of her hand and took a slurp of noodles, all the while still looking at her paper. "Greasy Americano food is the best kind," hummed Ashlyn in approval, and only then did she look up at Sally, eyeballing the pencil in the girl's hand curiously.
She nearly opened her mouth mid-chew to ask her journalistic friend the politically correct term for gene modders would be, but got stopped cold when Sally put on her interrogation voice and began asking question. Slowly, Ashlyn gulped down her current bite, her brain racing to think of a response. Sally was her friend, sure, but this was the Game, and it wasn't really something that normal people were supposed to know about. Even Sally had been convinced that the new blonde streaks in her hair had been highlights, just because it'd been easier than saying 'a goddess messed with my genes and now I have firebangs'. And now, Ashlyn was at a loss for words as to how she was going to explain the freak show she'd been hanging out with the night before.
"...When...was this?" Ashlyn wanted Sally to clarify, just in case there had been some other bunch of weirdos she had played tour guide for yesterday.
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Posted: Fri Jul 16, 2010 11:41 am
"Yesterday," repeated Sally insistently, tapping the pencil in a steady rhythm. "In Oldpeka?" In high school, going to Oldpeka had been a dare kids put each other up to for silly club initiations. In college, it was practically a hobby. She sighed, popped the tab on her soda, and flipped the notebook open. The front page was covered in Sally's narrow, neat handwriting.
"I was out there interviewing people for, y'know, the Inquirer," she said, her voice getting a bit quieter. (Quieter in a subjective way, of course. This was still Sally.) The Central Inquirer was an underground, alternative weekly. Officially it was illegal, but the most Suits would do if they caught you with a copy was take it from you. Most people just regarded it as an exercise in rabble-rousing, but to Sally it was a way of life; she penned stories for them under the nom de plume of Sally Linkletter, pretending to be some upper-crust WASP girl to distract enforcers.
"So," said Sally, nibbling the end of her chopsticks, "I was on my way home and I saw you showing some people around. Purple guy with a nose like an elephant, tall guy walking a three-headed dog, some blue kid - is this making any sense to you yet?"
"I know it was you, Ash," she added, smirking at her friend.
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Posted: Fri Jul 16, 2010 2:22 pm
s**t. s**t s**t s**t s**t s**t.
Sally had seen everything, and that was bad news. Really bad news. Ashlyn liked her as much as the next fun-loving friend in Journalism class, but if there was one person who didn't know how to keep a secret, it was Sally Chu. Who knew what sort of photos she'd taken, what sort of articles she'd already written for the Inquirer? Ashlyn liked the Inquirer as much as any other fun-loving college student, but it moved a step too far when the articles started to become about her.
"Oh," said Ashlyn nervously, rubbing the back of her neck, "Uh, those guys, haha. Those were...gene modders. Like, hardcore ones. Friend of a friends. They're..." She thought back to the party members involved: there was Cat-Girl and Cat-Boy, Blue Man, Hades and Persephone, Four Armed Chick, Tomahawk Man, and...
"Vegas. They're from Vegas." Ashlyn smiled weakly, remembering the wild blonde with the crazy feathers. Everyone knew about Southern, Northern, and Eastern, but when they'd tried to name the westernmost point of habitable land Western, the name had never really stuck, and as such it was the only location that bore its original name. Urban legend had it that the whole bunch of them were so gene modded that in some cases it was hard to tell they had ever been human, but so few people traveled from City to City, it was hard to know for sure. "They want to get a show approved for Chateau Commerce people. It's all on the down low."
She smiled again, though she probably shouldn't have even bothered. Ashlyn was a notoriously bad liar, and Sally was notoriously good at picking up on lies.
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Posted: Fri Jul 16, 2010 7:27 pm
"Ohhh," Sally nodded, looking astute. "So we're getting a circus?" Sally had never been to Vegas, but its reputation preceded it. Try as the might, the government had never been able to crack down quite as hard there as they had anywhere else - some historians fondly referred to it as "the America that was;" like Kyoto during World War II, Vegas had largely been spared from the bombs.
The cogs were turning in Sally's mind, jumping from one piece of information to the next. She flipped to a new page in her notebook. "Is it part of the new arts initiative in this quarter's budget?" she asked. The arts initiative had been highly promoted by the city; everyone knew about it. But right after she said this, Sally narrowed her eyes.
"That thing's just barely big enough to pay for construction paper and pain for some elementary schoolers," she corrected. Which left the mystery of the circus. "Are they an independent company? Ohhh, Ash, you have to introduce me! That's so cool!"
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Posted: Tue Jul 20, 2010 9:50 am
"Yeah," Ashlyn added, shaking her head enthusiastically, "A circus. Totally."
The girl might have been a horrible liar, but things were getting relatively easy with the way Sally liked to take a story and run with it. So long as the other girl believed, Ashlyn just continued nodding her head, adding in little tidbits like, "They're, uhh...yeah, a private company. Some CEO, I think. I'm not sure. It's not polite to talk about finances, y'know?" As if Ashlyn had ever had 'polite' very high on her list of things she needed to be.
Ashlyn thought the worst of it was over, but then Sally demanded to meet some of the 'circus', and that sent Ashlyn's heart-rate back to lightning speed. "You can't!" She blurted out quickly, then paused, laughing nervously as she began to pull at her braid. "I mean, you can't just walk up to these guys. They're...skittish. A lot of them are shy. And, uhmm...sensitive. About their gene mods and stuff."
"Just don't go meeting them on your own, okay?" Ashlyn can only imagine what sort of havoc could be wrought if Sally decided to publish a full story about the Game. "I'm sure I can grab one or two for lunch in Commerce on day, but it'll take a while." Even now, she didn't know where any of the godlings had run off to. It wasn't as if she had been given the location of the apartments they were staying in. In retrospect, she probably should have asked someone: information like that could be important.
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Posted: Tue Jul 20, 2010 1:29 pm
Sally was only briefly discouraged by this declaration. Then she asked, "Skittish? Ash, they're in show business!" So you could walk a highwire in your underwear five nights a week, but not give one little interview? She thought about contesting it further, but a moment under Ashlyn's stare made her back down.
"Alright, sheesh," she declared, slurping more noodles. "I won't hound the innocent."
Sally stabbed the air with her chopsticks. "But really, Ash. If I run into them on my own, say unintentionally, just as a coincidence - you can't stop me from talking to them."
She would get that interview. Somehow.
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Posted: Sun Aug 01, 2010 9:33 am
Ashlyn groaned internally: once Sally was onto a story, there was no getting her off of it. The girl had a stubborn streak wider than Ashlyn's herself, and even if she feigned defeat, Ashlyn knew she'd be able to find the girl in Oldpeka later, notepad in hand.
"Just--be careful, alright? These performers, they're not like normal people." It would feel too out of place to say 'they're not like you or me,' especially when half of that statement wasn't true. "They're not used to Central people and all it takes is one wrong question to set them off, and if you hit up the Strongman..." If only she could explain that strongman meant turning into a shark and eating her.
"I know it sounds like a good story, but the last thing I want to see is you getting hurt because you went too far." Ashlyn tried to give a concerned look, but it was difficult to do with noodles trailing off the side of her mouth. "And if you ever get bad vibes about a situation, promise you'll call me. I don't care what time of day it is or anything, just call me, and I'll come pick you up or something." Never mind that Ashlyn only had a one-seater motor scooter to her name: the look on her face meant business.
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Posted: Sun Aug 01, 2010 12:28 pm
Sally leaned in close to Ashlyn, a slightly quizzical grin on her face. The other girl did not flinch: she meant business. Sally backed off. She picked up her chopsticks and poked at the remains of her lunch. "Sheesh," she declared again. "You're really serious about this, aren't you?
Serious enough, in fact, to offer a ride on the back of her scooter. Not just anyone got offered rides on the motor scooter - it meant Ashlyn meant business. Sally crossed herself. "I solemnly swear."
She checked her watch and got up, picking up her tray as she stood. "I gotta run by the newspaper office before class," she sighed dramatically. "See you in PCP - don't be late!"
Sally turned and left, just as quickly and abruptly as she had entered and leaving just as much of a wake.
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