voice;

[kidjoy]

[It’s been a long time since she’s addressed the community. While she’s always sounded annoyed, now there’s a heartache behind the anger. An exhaustion, a defeat.]

Back in the desert we got this story that gets told to every greenie that shows up in the sand. That it don’t matter if you went and got dusted ‘cause your shadow still lives on. [A shaky, sharp breath.] Killjoys never die.

But in this place, it ain’t true. The desert doesn’t believe in death but here there’s no life to begin with. Light’s out is just light’s out. [The anger in her voice picks up, deep and visceral.] All this place gives is empty promise after empty promise, dangles lil’ shiny pieces of hopin’ right in your face then laughs it away again. Just makes everythin’ you were ever told one damn cruel joke.

[There’s a few moments of nothing of but heavy breathing and snotty snuffles before she starts again, voice forcibly more calm.]

So why don’t all you rat kings and thrill seekers and wannabe white suits give me a new story worth believin' in?

Comments

[warandpeace]

I still have some paper if you want to try it.

I remember the art you did on the ship.

I kept the pictures of it. I even have them despite our old communications devices being gone. [He'd told her he'd print them out.]

[kidjoy]

We don't have the boxes here. [She pauses, it's a paltry excuse.] I know I should. For all of 'em.

[She just doesn't know how to properly apologize for what she felt was her role in what happened]

You did? Thanks. [He said he would, but she always half expects people to let her down. It's good to be wrong.] I should do another. Plenty of buildings 'round here.

[warandpeace]

They probably wouldn't like that very much. A lot of the buildings probably have their own owners.

Unless you can get someone to pay you to paint. That's a possibility, too. You're pretty good, you could make a decent amount of money for it.

[kidjoy]

I could always paint my own place up.

[Her tent was rather boring anyway.]

Gettin' paid to paint? Sounds a lil' too good to be true. And I'd bet nobody would be payin' me to paint what I wanted to.

[warandpeace]

Perhaps not. But if you find yourself willing to take commissions, I think you could do pretty good.

I'm thinking of opening a diner. I could give you a job there. It wouldn't be interesting, but it would be pay.

[kidjoy]

Mm. Maybe.

Diner? A for real one? [Obviously he wouldn't offer otherwise, but it takes her off guard. Diner would always first and foremost make her think of home.] Doing what? I don't really know how to cook.

[warandpeace]

Sweeping or something small. Something easy.

[Which isn't really teaching her a trade like he usually believes in, but she's already very creative and it seems like giving her time to think would be good for her.]

[kidjoy]

I could handle that. I mean, I never did a lot of cleanin', but I can work pretty hard when I wanna.

[warandpeace]

I wouldn't ask too much work of you, so you wouldn't have to worry about that.

[He doesn't expect other children to have the work ethic he had as a child. If anything, he would hope that they wouldn't have.]

[kidjoy]

You don't have to go easy on me. I don't mind helpin' you out. Like you better than anyone else I'd have to work for.

[warandpeace]

I'll take that as a compliment.

Alright then. I'll give you the address. Hopefully you're not too far away.

[kidjoy]

It is one.

Thanks. Close enough for me.