Living in the Shadows: IC, Jan 15th-21st Options

[grendel]

10:58:17 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

Kovacs' tone held the kind of honest uncertainty it had whenever he speculated on something without any relevant data.

Not sure. I don't remember much of them. My younger years were...unremarkable, I guess, is the most accurate term. We were happy, I know. There were more good times than bad. I never wanted for anything. But that life never interested me.

Mac nodded, although she knew he couldn't see her, and her own youthful experiences had been so vastly different. Her memories were charged with pain and fear, deep scars that sent her hurtling headlong down the path she'd been on until bad choices and coincidence had crossed her path with his. Movement outside drew her attention, though, and she felt a rapid pulse of adrenaline. A trio of unkempt individuals were cruising slowly down the street on foot, poking listlessly at the bundles of wreckage strewn about.

Moving quickly but quietly, she shifted position to get a better view of them, her hand automatically finding the butt of her pistol. The trio turned out to be a pair of men and a woman, young, perhaps late teens or early twenties. It was hard to make out further details through the layers of rags and dirt that covered them.

Low threat, street survivors. Hunger will drive them to desperate measures. Keep your eyes out.

Mac nodded, tight-lipped, her eyes on the scene unfolding. Her stomach ached in sympathy, memories of nights spent scrabbling for something to fill it.

A sudden commotion drew her attention as a pair of motorcycles roared to a stop. The riders, an ork and a human, were dressed in Crimson Crush colors. They pinned the street urchins in place with their headlights, dismounting with predatory eagerness.

"Well, well, what have we here?" leered the ork. One of the urchins made to run, only to be viciously checked to the ground by the human on his motorcycle.

"Looks like a party to me, Anvil!"

"Yeah, that it does," agreed the ork. "That it does."

[Vegas]

11:01:07 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

Mac swore colorfully but quietly as she watched the one of the trio go down hard and then wisely stay down. Her jawline tightened as she could practically feel the gaze of the Ork as it raked over the waif of a girl who stood trembling, rooted in fear. She was well acquainted with that fear herself, one too many times being on the receiving end of an overly-predatory gaze, thinking that she was theirs for the taking. It was obvious the trio of survivors were no match for both gangers let alone one of them.

Mac's gaze swung away from the view just outside to Tristan's prone form, unbothered by the commotion outside and back again. She shook her head as if the sleeping swordsman confirmed her course of action.

"I can't." It was the first words she had spoken out loud in over an hour.

As much as she would have wished to do something to stop anything from happening to the waif like girl, she knew she couldn't afford to give away where she and Tristan were holed up and her barely healed injuries guaranteed she wouldn't be worth much in a confrontation should she slip outside. She kept her attention on the five that now lingered just outside, but she stayed perched on the overturned filing cabinet, her hand still lingering near her pistol.

[grendel]

11:38:16 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

You may have to move. If they bring any more of the gang in, you and Tristan will be in danger of discovery. Might argue for early intervention. Kovacs' observation was bland and non-committal. Mac was familiar with the tone, glancing away from the casual brutality outside, even as the sounds of it crawled inside her mind like unwelcome insects. She flexed her hand on her gun again, staring at the synthetic of her fingers where they lay against the synthetic of the frame. Mac shook her head again, remaining firm in her position.

Can't. I'm still too wounded, and there's too many variables in play. And I'm outgunned with just a pistol.

She felt Kovacs give a mental shrug.

She forced herself to watch, eyes scanning the approaches on the street for any indication that the gangers were bringing reinforcements. She tried to ignore the screams that became anguished moans before falling mercifully into silence.

The gangers eventually left, their lust and violence sated for the time being, motorcycles snarling into the distance. Quiet returned to the streets. Mac watched. A tremor of movement caught her eye. The thin girl struggled to her knees, searching amidst the wreckage on the street for something.

[Vegas]

11:52:19 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

Her gaze zeroed in on the frail girl, reading the defeat and shame in the girls posture with far too much ease. Mac quickly became engaged with the girl's search however, wondering what would be so important for the girl to linger long enough for her intense search, but not even valuable enough for the gangers to have left behind.

Mac watched for a few minutes, but couldn't see either of the girl's two companions, but something twisted inside of her. The part that identified with how that girl survived on the streets and the emptiness that was all-encompassing. Before she could get too caught up in her own memories, Linda's words filtered past the dark emotions.

You know we take care of our own. Don't sweat trying to make it up to me. You can do that by taking care of someone else when she gets stomped on by the world.

She spared a glance towards the stockpile of rations, surely she could manage to go without a meal or two and without some water while she waited for Tristan to wake up.

[grendel]

12:14:32 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

The girl found what she was looking for yards down the street, kneeling in the gutter to draw the broken body of one of her companions into her lap. Mac watched as her shoulders hunched and shivered, her body rocking gently as she wept for what was lost.

Mac felt her fists clench as the anger boiled through her veins. Anger at the callous violence of the gangers. Anger at the inhospitable streets. Anger at her inability to protect the girl. Anger at de Medici for setting the stage that allowed this to happen. It was fierce and irrational, a hot furnace of animal rage that wanted vengeance for every wrong suffered or witnessed. It excited and terrified her simultaneously.

I'm going to get her she said, daring Kovacs to counter.

Take Tristan's jacket, and an extra clip for your pistol, replied the samurai. After a moment, Mac nodded. The swordsman's jacket was oversized on her, but the weight of the armor instantly made her more comfortable. She jammed an extra magazine for the Browning into the pocket, clutching the pistol itself in her right hand. Doing her best to be silent, despite the jagged pains in her body, she twisted open the narrow panel that blocked the doorway into their hideout.

Poised in the entrance alcove, Mac scanned the streets, her eyes moving in a recently learned pattern, touching the intersections, the buildings, their rooftops and alleyways. Seeing no immediate threat, she skirted the broken wall to her right, moving into the street and slowly approaching the girl.

[Vegas]

12:29:03 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

She approached the girl on near silent footfalls, only making a bit more noise as she drew within meters of the girl as to not startle her. Mac kept the majority of her attention focused on the girl but she was constantly scanning the area, seeking out the possible threats while she remained exposed. She tried to keep the stabs and shocks of pain that needled her sporradically from distracting her from her goal, getting the girl somewhere safe. She knew her adrenaline would continue to spike until she was back behind the door and in the relative safety of the squat. She waited until the girl before her was aware of her presence, the fear and trepidation on the girl's face flared a fresh wave of anger inside her and she was quick to make sure her posture was relaxed and her voice as soothing as possible.

"It's ok, I'm not here to hurt you." She raised her left hand while attempting to conceal the pistol she refused to let go of in her right hand within the oversized folds of Tristan's jacket.

"I just want to help," She paused and searched the girl's face, her gaze locking on the tear ridden, red-rimmed blue eyes that were filled with loss. "I want to help if you'll let me."

[grendel]

12:37:19 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

Beneath the grime and crusted blood it's hard for Mac to determine anything about the girl. Her body is lean from a youth spent on the edge of starvation, with just a hint of hips and breasts. Her hair is matted and unkempt, a tangle of strands that hung down into her eyes. She could have been anywhere from twelve to twenty. Her face bears a familial resemblance to the boy who's body she weeps over, his sightless eyes staring up into the wan, smoky sunshine. Tears have cut tracks through the dirt on her cheeks, revealing the pale unblemished skin beneath.

"We weren't doing anything," she sobs quietly. "Just lookin' for something to eat."

She turns away from Mac, bowing her head. "Why'd they have to hurt him?"

[Vegas]

12:49:29 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

"Because they could."

Mac's voice was level and devoid of any emotion. She saw no reason to sugarcoat the situation to the girl, she wouldn't insult her intelligence gained by a life on the streets. She watched as the girl continued to weep over the broken body of what Mac assumed was her brother.

She kneeled to the broken concrete and leveled her gaze with the girl. Regretfully she could see so much of herself and her past reflected in the girl's eyes and it twisted something up tight inside her. She spared a glance again at her surroundings, making sure she wasn't being watched or stalked from behind by the missing third companion, or worse.

"Nothing I can offer will bring him back, but what I can offer is something to eat and my protection."

She sat back on her heels, poised to spring to her feet in an instant, resting the pistol on her knees as she waited for the girl's answer.

[grendel]

13:38:29 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

The girl nodded in response to Mac's offer, but made no move, her hand slowly stroking the blood-matted hair of her brother.

"What do I do?" she asked. "I don't know what to do."

Mac wasn't quite sure either, knowing only that they had to get off the street. Sitting out here amidst the wreckage made her feel vulnerable and exposed.

Carry the body around back of the building. There should be enough material there to build a cairn, advised Kovacs. Mac nodded.

"I'll help you take care of him," she said, working her hands beneath the still warm shoulders. The girl blinked, remaining motionless for a moment before Mac's efforts shocked her out of her catatonia. Together the two of them managed to carry/drag the body off the street and around behind the building. True enough, there were several piles of rubble strewn about. Mac steered them towards the largest, laying the body down adjacent to it before sifting through the bricks and broken cement for the appropriate pieces to form the base. The thin, wounded girl helped, tears still trickling down her cheeks. Together they outlined the body, then slowly covered it, creating an uneven mound. It didn't take long to cover the thin, broken form, the two finishing in silence.

The girl looked at Mac expectantly. "We're supposed to say words, aren't we?"

Mac nodded, unwilling to meet her gaze and admit that she had no idea. "Yeah, I guess so."

Into the arms of the city we deliver our brother...

Mac cleared her throat. "Into the arms of the city we deliver our brother."

The girl looked at her in some surprise, then bowed her head. Mac did the same.

"Into its spirit we give his hopes and dreams. Into its spirit we give his youth and his life, taken from us too soon." Mac continued to repeat Kovacs words.

"May he find peace at last."

[Vegas]

13:57:53 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

Mac closed her eyes both against the emotion of Kovacs' words and the continued sobs that were growing in volume once again from the girl beside her. Burying this girl's family amidst all the chaos that lingered on the streets managed to drive home the fact she still hadn't mourned her own loss, or even had the chance to say goodbye. Yet at the same time, the voice in her head reminded her that he wasn't entirely gone. A fact that was likely to frag her up six ways from Sunday if she wasn't careful.

She let the girl continue to mourn at the side of her family for a little while longer while she watched the streets around them. When she spotted a small group of people in the distance coupled with the revving of motorcycle engines somewhere nearby she made the decision that it was time to move.

"We need to go. Now." Mac's voice was clipped with urgency. She preferred that the girl followed a backtracked path with her of her own accord, but she wasn't against dragging the girl back with her if necessary.

[grendel]

14:18:06 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

In the end, neither course of action was required. The urgency in Mac's voice along with the distant rev of engines goaded the girl into action. She latched on to the hand Mac offered with fear-driven strength, her eyes wide and panicked. She followed close behind as Mac lead her through the narrow opening into the shelter of the room.

Tristan's form remained immobile, his breathing deep and even as he recovered from the narcotic fatigue. Mac pushed aside her own sleeping bag, making room on the cot. The girl sat, curling her legs up and hugging them to her body. Wordlessly Mac offered her one of the bottles of water, her eyes peering through the narrow slots of the window, trying to track the progress of the gangers. They seemed to be slowly working their way closer in a random fashion, likely out casing the area for anything worth salvaging or stealing. She glanced back at the girl.

"What's your name?" she asked, realizing she couldn't go on simply referring to her as 'the girl'.

"Cris," said the girl, her eyes and face still numb with shock.

"Short for Cristin?"

An expression of mild disgust flickered across her face, the first sign of emotion she'd displayed. "No. Cristofina. My mom was a big fan of the Blue Lotus sims."

[Vegas]

14:39:41 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

Mac nodded in acknowledgement, her gaze still fixed on the gangers movement outside and their approach. Convinced they weren't making a bee line for their hideout, she checked that the doorway was closed to the point that it appeared already searched and not worth anyone's attention, yet kept them both protected and hidden. She turned on her heel and started back towards Cris.

"I'm Mac."

She dug through Tristan's go bags, cherry picking the better of the ration packets that remained before tearing it open and activating the chemical heater before she passed the packet to the girl.

"I'm guessing you haven't had anything to eat in a while. It's not much, but better than digging through the trash."

She perched herself back atop the filing cabinet, keeping her attention split between the activities of the gangers and Cris, her pistol visible and at the ready. Her voice was soft, almost reverent yet distant.

"Was he your brother?"

[grendel]

15:02:09 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

Cris stared at the ration packet in her hand for a minute before she took a bite.

"My youngest," she answered. She took another bite, her hands moving mechanically. Her eyes traveled slowly around the room as she chewed, their gaze dull and listless.

Mac kept watch out the window, more confident now that Cris wasn't going to do anything unpredictable like burst into loud hysterics.

"Is that your man?" asked the thin girl, gesturing with her plastic spork towards Tristan. Mac felt cold knives rake across the fresh wound of her loss.

"No," she replied, struggling to keep the harshness from her tone. "They killed him, too."

Cris glanced at her in surprise, guilt and sorrow in her gaze. "I'm sorry."

"Me too," whispered Mac. She took a drink in an attempt to drown the sudden lump in her throat.

"Who is he, then?"

"A friend. Fellow survivor of this madness." Mac wasn't sure how much she wanted to reveal about Tristan to this street waif. Luckily, Cris didn't pursue it further, turning back to what was left in her ration packet.

"It is madness. Do you know what happened?" she asked after a bit.

[Vegas]

15:25:34 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

Mac instantly shook her head, feeling that it was best if she kept what she knew and what she surmised quite separate when sharing with Cris. There was no need to start explaining what she knew or trying to dispel away their involvement, or even speculating as to what was currently going on. Truth of the matter was she had no clue and it was better to stick to the generic and sanitized version of the truth for now.

“Honestly, I have no idea what’s going on,” Mac’s gaze remained on the window and its limited view while she continued in hushed whispers.

“We were out in the city when all hell broke loose. I was hurt pretty badly,” She gestured with her new cyberarm and her still healing cuts and bruises were fairly apparent. “I remember a brutal explosion somewhere near me, pain so intense I couldn’t breathe and then darkness. I woke up here. Last night. With him.”

She nodded towards Tristan’s prone form before she spared her gaze on Cris.

“What about you, you’ve been out there and probably know more than I do really.”

[grendel]

15:41:16 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

Cris shook her head. "Not really. We were just hanging out and then the matrix went down, then the power went down. People were just wandering around not knowing what was going on. Then the gangs came. There was chaos in the streets."

She sucked on the spork thoughtfully. "It was like...someone turned the world off."

Mac nodded. It was as an apt description as any. She hoped that her vague description would be enough to satisfy the girl. She didn't want to address any of the recent trauma herself, let alone with a street waif who's acquaintance she just made. She watched the flickering headlights of the gang's motorcycles cast back and forth. They seemed to be operating at a constant distance, neither coming closer nor further. She wondered if they were searching for something in particular.

Silence stretched in the small room, and after a few minutes Mac glanced over at Cris to make sure she was all right. The thin girl was fast asleep, her knees pulled up under her chin, the spork still dangling from her lips.

[Vegas]

16:03:22 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

The way the girl fell asleep effectively on her feet softened the hard lines of Mac's face for a moment. She slid from her perch and carefully plucked the spork from Cris' mouth before she unzipped her sleeping bag and draped it carefully around the girl without waking her.

Mac tiptoed around the room, cautious to keep the volume of her movements minimal not only to let the girl get some sleep, but to keep their position hidden from those lurking outside. With the constant rev and dissipation of the bike engines in the distance, she checked over Tristan and tucked his sleeping bag around him to conserve warmth as the fire they had going had long since burned out.

Lingering over his go bags, she reorganized supplies and took a mental inventory just in case before she zipped both bags up tightly and stored them a little more out of sight for the time being before she returned to her perch. She stared up at the ceiling as she fought to keep awake and alert and let out a lengthy sigh. Slipping back into the silent conversation in her head she found herself longing to hear his voice, to feel not quite so alone for a moment.

Looks like it's just you and me again.

[grendel]

16:29:43 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

So it would seem. The humanitarian thing isn't going to be sustainable for long, the rations in the go bags aren't designed to support more than one or two people. She's going to be a drain on resources. As soon as Tristan is up, you two should drop her off at one of the missions.

Mac grimaced. Although she knew his words were correct, the idea of dumping Cris right back into the mix didn't sit well with her. The missions were barely better than the streets, and given the amount of chaos still rampant in the city she was sure that their meager resources would be overwhelmed. The gangs would be out in force, taking advantage of the situation. Dark memories bubbled to the surface of her mind. She crushed her hands together, welcoming the pain as the cool synthetic of her right bruised the flesh of her left. She wished her motorcycle was here. Riding always helped clear her mind, helped chase the demons away in a neon blur of white lines and cold wind.

We could get more supplies.

You can't save everyone.

No, but I could save her.

[Vegas]

16:46:07 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

Letting loose a string of curses that could have made the most jaded cringe as logic warred with a unexpected set of emotions for a girl she barely knew but could see so much of herself reflected back, Mac tried to reign in her frustration and find another way to process since none of her usual coping methods were available to her. The fact that one was now gone forever wasn't lost on her either and only served to darken her already black mood.

Across the room Cris stirred but didn't wake, and for that reprieve, Mac was grateful. She mused over what made her suddenly so attached to this girl, why she had thrown caution and reason to the wind to bring her into the safety that Tristan had provided them. Why she didn't turn her back like everyone did against her so many year ago.

That right there was the crux of the issue. She wondered what would have become of her had someone shown something besides contempt, beyond how they could use her and move on so many years ago. But Cris wasn't her and like it or not, Kovacs was right, she couldn't afford to jeopardize her and Tristan's safety and security for each street waif. She would have to get her somewhere with a little more security than the open streets and let fate deal its hand.

Deep inside though, that still didn't completely sit right with her.

I'll get her somewhere safer when Tristan wakes. Until then she's not harming anyone getting the rest she'll need to go on without her brother.

[grendel]

17:02:14 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

I wasn't advocating throwing her out immediately. Ultimately it's your call on the timing, just keep in mind how thin the margin is in our current situation.

Trust me, I'm well aware. Mac lifted her new right hand, watching the fingers flex in response to her mental commands. So, you wore one of these for a long time. What can I do with it?

You'll want to get one professionally sized to you, and balanced to your organic strengths and flexibility. Otherwise it's going to throw off your balance and reflexes. Also, there's room inside to place small pieces of equipment, such as a commlink or deck. You can also put weapons in there: spurs, hand blades, even pistols and automatic weapons. They're less suitable than your current armament so I recommend against them. There are a few other optional upgrades that I would recommend, though.

Is this how it starts?

Yes. It's different for different people, but this is the path. You're lucky in that you gain from your scars. Other times, your scars will simply be reminders of how close you came to not being good enough.

Mac glanced out the window onto the street, watching the flickering headlights of the gang. What if I don't want to walk this path?

Then don't. Do something else. Anything else. But be ready: now that you know this world exists, now that you've seen behind the curtain and walked amongst these shadows, even if only briefly, you'll never be able to see the world in the same way.

[Vegas]

17:37:29 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

A wry smile spread slowly across Mac’s lips at the entirety of truth to Kovacs’s statement. She had seen ‘behind the curtain’ to expose some of the highs and lows, the good, the bad and even the ugly in such a short span of time. She stopped for a moment and thought about the gravity of the statement as well. Could she really walk away and put behind her all that she had seen, felt and experienced? Even though she was only briefly involved in the shadows she wondered if she would always be looking over her shoulder, wondering if all of this would ever catch up with her. If she’d ever cross paths with Winternight and find some sense of solace in revenge for all she lost. Mac already knew it would haunt her forever.

Before her mind ran away with her and overwhelmed her in the moment, she stopped herself from getting too sucked into the unknown and jumping to conclusions that might not ever come to fruition. Instead she started to make a mental list of things that had to get done, and in what order that would inevitably lead her down a path that would resolve her mental gymnastics. The list was rather short and sweet; Leave Cris somewhere safe, get to Kovacs’ storage locker with Tristan’s help to find whatever he thought was important enough to leave to her then find her way to Frankie and Mario and see where that would take her. That would get her far enough. For now.

She returned their conversation back to the earlier train of thought where a question had kept plaguing her.

What happens if… when I replace my arm? What happens to you and everything we share between now and then?

[grendel]

17:55:36 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

Mac felt Kovacs give a mental shrug.

Ultimately, it's up to you. As a purely electronic construct, I can shift to any device that has sufficient storage and processing power to run my heuristics. I continue to compile memories and update my core persona so there won't be a time that we would 'lose' the intervening experiences between my initial creation and subsequent activation. There's a reason, though, why the farmer in the legend of the fox commits suicide.

But you can't read the thoughts I don't want you to read, said Mac, and immediately wondered if that were true or not. How rapidly did the neural connections work?

True, you have to direct communications to me as if we were in fact speaking, the same as any kind of direct neural connection. But it is a unique form of intimacy and one that you may grow tired of, replied Kovacs.

Mac hugged her arms to herself as his use of the word 'intimate' brought memories flooding back. Through the pain of her still healing wounds, she could feel her body ache for his touch, the warmth of his one flesh and blood hand against the cool synthetic grip of his other. The hard male scent of his body, sweat and leather, kevlar and gun oil all mixed together. She felt the tears well up but did nothing to stop them, cheeks glistening in the chill half-light of the room, eyes staring out the window at a memory that felt simultaneously a thousand years old and just a second passed.

I miss you, too, whispered Kovacs.

[Vegas]

18:19:43 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

Mac choked on the sob that caught in her throat at his words, the final hammer to her heart that reopened every poorly bandaged wound she had managed to heal since she learned of his death. Her tears flowed freely now as she was unable or unwilling to stop them.

I miss you. More than you could ever know. I'm not sure I can do this alone.

The hand on her shoulder caused her to jump slightly, her synthetic hand wrapping around the offending wrist tightly in the blink of an eye, her left moving to her hip and drawing her pistol, expecting to turn into the gaze of a Crimson Crush rider.

"Ow! Let go! You're hurting me!" The waif keened low in the murky half-light of the room.

Mac quickly released the girl's wrist, mumbling an incoherent apology while she wiped violently at her tear-stained cheeks with little regard to her healing wounds.

"I'm sorry, I thought you were one of them."

She focused her gaze on the doorway and silently said a prayer that no one outside had heard Cris' cry.

[grendel]

18:46:22 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

Cris shrank away from Mac, rubbing her hand where the cold synthetic had crushed it. Mac shook her head, cursing silently to herself. What had she become? The pistol was still at the low ready in her left hand, its weight at once comforting and alien. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, making her jumpy and sick to her stomach. Cris mistook her silence for anger, shrinking in on herself.

"I'm sorry," she said in a small voice. "Please don't send me away."

"Oh, hey, no," said Mac, struggling to right herself on the cot. She stuffed the pistol back into its holster so she could reach out to Cris with her left hand. The thin girl flinched at the contact, but didn't try and shy away. Mac settled herself next to her, draping the arm over painfully thin shoulders. The two sat in silence for a minute before she felt Cris relax, leaning her head against Mac's shoulder. She wondered if she should start another fire. The light was quickly fading, and the wind outside sounded cold.

"You were crying for your man," whispered Cris, more a statement than a question. "Sometimes I used to catch my mother crying like that, for my father. I used to promise myself I would never be like her. But I am like her, aren't I? Everyone in this world dies."

Mac felt her world hollow out at Cris' words, but at the same time something else bubbled to the surface of her mind. She didn't know where it came from, she must have heard it somewhere, and she would have laughed at the corniness of the line, if it weren't so starkly real at that moment. She pulled the thin girl close.

"If the people we love are stolen from us, the way to have them live on is never stop loving them. Buildings burn, people die, but real love is forever."

[Vegas]

19:23:27 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

With her flesh and blood hand, she gave Cris' shoulder a squeeze, gently this time before she put a little distance between them. She couldn't let herself get too attached to the girl, no matter how much she saw herself reflected in her. A subconscious part of her mind knew that she could very well be projecting herself, needing to feel close to someone to cope with her loss. When she spoke again, her voice was quieter, more distant, speaking for his benefit as much as the girl's.

"I never wanted to be like my mother either. But I suppose those that raise you leave a mark, set what your version of 'normal' is. But I think anyone you let in, and let close have that type of influence really."

A sad smile touched Mac's lips as she paused, the truth to her words spoken from the feeling as if over the last two weeks, Kovacs had as much influence, if not more over her life than her mother had over eleven years. She glanced towards the door and the mostly blocked window and held quiet for longer than just a pause in their conversation to see if there was any more indication of the presence of the gang lurking outside. She shivered inside Tristan's jacket and knew the trio wouldn't do well through the night without another fire.

Slipping away from Cris, she started to work her way through the space, gathering the pieces of things strewn about that would burn the longest, without the most smoke and brought them over to where the swordsman's previous fire had burned. After the girl realized what Mac was doing, she helped and the pair stacked the various items with some care to form a small but efficient fire. Mac then carefully rifled through the go bag that didn't contain food, working her way through the contents and around Tristan's various bladed weapons, she was rewarded with a set of matches in a tight waterproof case which she held up like a prize.

"Now maybe tonight we won't freeze to death."

[grendel]

23:08:11 Saturday, 20 January 2063 – 10780 Leutzen Blvd, Puyallup Seattle

The fire, carefully banked, fills the small space with warmth after only a few minutes. Mac and Cris sit in silence for the most part, watching the flickering flames. Mac divides her attention between inside and out, although the gang has apparently moved off. As night falls, the wind picks up, howling coldly outside. More lights burn in the surrounding city, although here and there the sky still shines orange from unchecked fires. It seems as if slowly, ever so carefully, Seattle was picking itself up and putting itself back together.

Matrix signal is still spotty, although two solid windows open where Mac is able to send and receive texts from Frankie. Her and Mario were still safe, holed up in a dingy hotel room in Everett. They'd been able to get ahold of an outside news feed and the information was astounding. The damage wasn't limited to Seattle, alone, it was world-wide. Whatever de Medici and Winternight had done had caused widespread damage in every major urban area. Plus there was news from CalFree that Los Angeles had been hit by a devastating earthquake and flood. Supposedly almost all of downtown LA was under water! Mac wasn't sure she believed that last part, but it did make her wonder at how close they had been to being able to stop it all.

Cris couldn't keep her eyes open, and fell asleep shortly after they got the fire started. Mac let her keep the sleeping bag, hunkering down inside Tristan's jacket herself. She struggled to stay awake herself, finally resorting to a series of uncomfortable cat naps, each lasting about half an hour.

Mac. Kovacs' voice jerked her awake, and she glanced about, her hand automatically finding her pistol. The sleeping bag was empty.

She just stepped out the back door, I don't know where she's going.

Mac scrubbed her hand across her eyes before doing a quick inventory of the room. Nothing seemed to be missing. Moving as quietly as possible, she shifted open the thin panel securing the doorway, pausing while her eyes adapted to the gloom outside. The wind was bitterly cold.

Cris knelt next to her brother's cairn, head bowed.