It had been hours since she'd sat down with her new treasure, the book tucked between her hands as though it were made from only the most precious metals. There was nothing in this world of ruin more sacred than this here, this piece of history, magic, or the very essence of times gone by that were trouble free. Nothing more important to think of than bills or deadlines. She sighed, blinking her word weary eyes before realizing she'd been here for nearly a day. She sat bolt upright, springing suddenly from her place on the blankets, casting about for the little pocket watch that she-
"AH! There y'are, y' little fiend." She chided, plucking the barely recognizable thing from the floor by one wall. It had definitely seen better days. Hell, it'd seen better nights- as it seemed dusk had once again fallen, according to her naked little heathen. She pressed the pocket watch between her hands, the gears tickling her palms. Silly thing had been stubborn with it's secrets when she'd first found it. Resulting in the loss of some of it's outer body. Not her fault! She hadn't meant to rent the thing from it's casing. But noooo...fell right out. She supposed she wasn't supposed to use a knife to open it...but then, there really was no point on dwelling on the past. ...Or her mistakes.
With a slight grin she placed the pocket watch on the table, and put the book up on a makeshift shelf with the others, a bit of ribbon serving as a bookmark as she headed for the hall and her exit.
Her list was very short today, very short indeed. But important none-the-less. She'd heard there was a bunker somewhere around here; well, someone's old bomb shelter. It was the sort of thing you expected to hear from passersby, people conspiring against each other in a bar over the nastiest drinks of the century. But it was something at least. It came out as legend...revered as almost that. She heard from a man sitting across her at what was usually called 'the safe zone'. A bar and refuge of sorts. There was nothing there that was free, and nothing there that could be stolen or sold. The barman was a two times war veteran, and his ...er...company...was nothing but a band of thugs. But they played nice and kept the grounds neutral, a safe haven..
Nero, that was all he liked to be called. A gruff old man with an even rougher appearance. But many an orphan called him father- and even more women called him 'sweetheart'. It was amusing at least. You could always trust on the grey bearded man to be what he always had been. A scruffy woman chasing father figure. And he played the role well. Food for the kids, blankets for the families, jewelry for the women who were so distraught they couldn't even see the glamour in a bit of finery. But watch Nero give them a single ring...a bracelet...or a watch far past it's prime...and the faces lit up like candles in the dark. Faces shone with tears and smiles. It was enough to make you forget he had an arsenal behind the bar, and a trained soldier in every corner.
She found herself walking into the bar, sliding her way up onto a stool as she grinned from ear to ear- scraggly short cut hair spiked around her face as though engine grease were a new fashion statement. Hell, it probably was. She smiled, trying to look the part of the innocent young girl all alone in the world. Didn't help that she had shown her true colors in there more than once. Punched a few people, caused some brawls, broken a few bones. It was no big deal really! ...Alright so she was a trouble maker. You would be too.
"Uncle Neeeero~" She cooed, smiling her best smile, shoulders up, hands together, eyes wide and expressive.
"What?" He wasn't buying it.
With a small pout and a frown she leaned forward, putting her forearms on the counter top with a small sigh as she cranked her voice from cutesy to business; her smile falling away like the mask it was. "There were three guys in here the other night, talking about a shelter." She began, the man instantly rolling his eyes. She flailed, waving her hands in the air as though to stop him from arguing with her. "It was different, Nero!" she insisted, the man lifting a single eyebrow at her as though she were doing something annoying.
"They had specifics. It wasn't like the fish-tales they usually tell. 'My friend heard from his assassin who heard from his mistress that a magical land full of guns is just on the other side of Barnaby road.' It wasn't like that!" She insisted, leaning forward earnestly before he coughed lightly, making her back up, and a figure across the room step forward. "BACK OFF RONALD, I'M JUST EXCITED!" She shouted, thumping a fist on the counter. The barman sighed, putting his rag down on the surface with one hand as he looked her straight in the eyes.
"Listen Doll, I heard them talkin' all night long, an it wasn't any bit more true than the guy who said he'd met an amazon from the black. Hair as red as rubies-"
"-Ass as tight as chains. Yeah yeah I know, but this was different, I'm telling you. You're stuck in here all the time Uncle Nero, and y've never gone out to the outer lands. They said it's in the old suburbs. Some guy with a big house long ago had a bunker built because he was convinced...convinced he was going to need it. And he was right, wasn't he! But they say he wasn't at home...and all his real friends died, so nobody knows where it is..just out in the suburbs.." Her voice reached a whisper, a conspiratory tone that threatened to come out raspy like the narrator of a ghost story.
"Yer gonna get'cher self killed chasin' fantasies child. Mark my words." The man huffed, snatching up his rag to point at her face with it, shake it at her a little. She stood up, sliding off the stool with a smooth and practiced movement, brushing at her thick canvas pants with a motion as though brushing off dirt.
"Well, you'll see...when I come back with food for years, You'll see." She said cooly, the man shaking his head at her before motioning her away with a toss of his hands. She'd always refused to take a man or two with her on her escapades, too bullheaded to accept protection that she couldn't pay for. She knew he needed his full complement to boast the safety that his establishment was famous for. One or two less from his strategies...his contingency plans...and she'd be the one responsible for his place going down in tears.
"Have fun, don't get hurt, " He began, speaking to her back.
" 'An don't steal anything I wouldn't steal." She finished for him, waving over her shoulder. If he wouldn't talk to her about it, she was going to have to go out on her own. Would have helped if he'd just speculated with her a little bit. Nero had a head for directions, knowing the streets every which way backward and forward. But without his help, she'd just bang it out like a lump in a sheet of metal. It would take longer..but she'd heard stories for the past two years about this place.
Everyone had their own version, but there were clues..keys..little bits of information stowed away in the story that were the same no matter where you went. Little flecks of the tale that were important. So important...the first thing she had to find was a blue seagull.
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