Aug 15 07:18:04 108 PA - Old Man, Young Man
From Chronicles
Aug 15 07:18:04 108 PA.
TRADEWINDS COFFEE SHOP
Just after dawn, just that first arc second of the Sun peeking over the eastern horizon, and Gabriel is already having coffee and reading one of Kingsdale's only remaining honest-to-God paper-print newspapers. Only a few people have yet to sit, but they're beginning to come in. Up at the counter, Tiffany, the four-armed, blue-skinned D-Bee teenage girl with a heart of gold and the brain of a river cobble is attempting to fill orders, and usually failing to get it right on the first try. But that's par for the course for this barista. Indeed, even the older Gabriel seems to have gleaned three mugs of something and two pastries. He has a metal briefcase stowed between his leg and the wall, at a two-place table.
Always nice to have one's arrival heralded, but not always by a shriek.... "EEEEEEK!" Comes a cry from outside, moments before Jax bangs into the coffee shop. He appears to be looking behind him and holding up an apologetic hand. "Woah, sorry about that." he says sheepishly. The reason for the shrill announcement is left behind him, but it could be something to do with the large wound across his forehead, coupled with the (only slightly) oozing wound on his left arm and vicious looking rips in his shirt. He looks around the coffee shop briefly before making his way in, sporting a slight limp. "Coffee please!" He calls out to nobody in particular.
On any other day, Gabriel would do what he always does - be quiet, and polite by keeping to himself. But that kind of entrance gets everyone's attention. Undoubtedly there are others in the room better qualified than he for this task, but nevertheless, he rises and walks toward the man, looking at the wounds. "Was that you screaming?" Possibly a joke, possibly not. But definitely in a very thick Kentucky accent, assuming that anyone these days would recognize such a definition. "You just get those?" He waves a finger toward the much taller, and younger, man's forehead.
Jaxain looks slightly dazed (possibly blood loss, but not anything a cup and a sit down wouldn't cure). He looks at Gabriel, not quite comprehending what the other man says for a moment, and then a slow smile spreads across his face, followed by a hearty laugh. "Good one man!" he says as he slaps the other man on the back, still chuckling. "Get what?" he asks, trying to look upwards into his forehead and failing. Reaching up a hand, he blinks a few times at the blood he finds there and says. "Oh crap, that's prolly why she freaked out like that." He looks hastily at the door, as if half expecting someone to come in and yell at him. And then he sways on his feet, possibly about to collapse.
The older man, whose age probably could be nailed at around 40 seems to take a little step back at the mention of a screaming woman. Eyes even narrow a little bit. "And why would a woman be screaming at you, sir? Such an early hour to find screaming women and a bloodied man.. one might think that there was something untoward?" Gabriel isn't actually pointing fingers, but he's certainly keen on learning the truth of the matter.
Jaxain manages to catch himself before he falls, but just barely. "Pardon?" He asks, blinking again to clear his eyes. "Oh, I dropped off a rooftop a few meters away from her, and I guess I'm bleeding pretty bad... so, yeah. Guess that's kinda untewerd or whatever. Sorry." He says, then his gaze seems to focus for a moment, and his eyebrows scrunch up as he realizes something. "Hey, I was fighting vampires all night, gimme a freaking break." And he sits down in a chair, actually the same chair that his new 'friend' has just vacated.
The older man seems unconcerned with the seizure of his chair, though he does make a point of taking his two brownies and two of the three mugs to the other side of the table, where he has seated himself. "Gabriel, Gabriel Blaze," he says politely extending a hand in greeting across the table. "I'm sorry, I just happen to look out for the fairer sex more than most people these days. But vampires, huh? I actually had a run in with 'em a few days ago. I prefer to just avoid them, myself; other things to do and all. It's.. a profession for you, or just a hobby?" He nudges the third mug in the other man's direction. "Go ahead. My treat to a stranger." He wears what seems to be a very sincere smile.
Jaxain is still too dazed to even show proper manners, and grabs the coffee and drains three quarters of the cup in a single gulp. "OMG that's good." He says, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. "Hey, thanks man, sorry if I'm a bit out of it. There are a lot more vampires in the Dregs than there were last time I was in town." He looks at one of the muffins with a hopeful smile. "I guess you could call it a profession. It's not exactly a dream job, but... let's just say it's kinda the family business." He grimaces as he takes another sip of from the offered cup. "Not that I really had any choice..." He starts, "Oh, names Jax, nice to meetcha!" He says, extending his bloodied hand before taking a quick look at it and noticing it's state, and retracting it to wipe it sheepishly on his shirt.
"Nice to meet you, Jax. Another unusual name around here, but not a bad one. Sounds like you walked out of Marvel Comics." Gabriel raises an eyebrow and laughs. "Of course, most everything around here looks like it walked out of Marvel Comics. You sleep during the day and fight crime at night, like Bruce Wayne?" He quietly grabs the briefcase from the other side of the table and slides the ugly, angular case to his side.
Jaxain blinks blinks at the reference. "Marvel Comics? He asks." reaching for one of the muffins absently. "Ummm, I usually like to sleep during the night, but I decide to look into things here in KD since I arrived, and things seem pretty bad..." Unless he is denied muffin access (as easy as shaking your head), he will take one and bite a large chunk of one. "Wait, Bruce Wayne?"
Gabriel picks up one of the muffins - the less chocolaty one - and gives it a gentle toss toward the other man. "Yeah. Millionaire playboy, but for some reason donned a leather bondage outfit in the shape of a pseudo-bat at night and fought crime with a mincing boy, calling themselves superheroes but who in fact just had a cluster of gadgets? I know, nobody knows anymore," he says with a laugh and a wave. "I guess I'm not so new to Kingsdale anymore, now that I think about it. You're very recent, then? You belong here and now?" Perhaps an odd final question.
"Oh hey," Jax says around his mouth full, "Thanks for the muffin too man, didn't realize how freaking hungry I was." Even now a lot of the patrons of the cafe have a hard time taking their eyes of the blood stained man. His good looks give him an action-hero appearance, offsetting the normally disgusting look of the wounds slightly. "Custer of gadgets, huh? That sounds pretty wicked, I'd take some of that right now." He looks around him for a moment, noticing the attention his appearance is garnering. "Maybe... I should go clean up the restroom...." he says, shooting a quick smile at Gabriel.
Gabriel nods affirmatively. "You probably should. Blood is one of those things that even cavemen knew was bad." He flaps a hand semi-dismissively toward the restroom. "I hope you heal fast."
Jaxain stands up, using the table to brace himself, and makes his way towards the bathroom. He will spend the next 15 minutes in there, doing whatever it is wounded people do in a bathroom, then re-emerge looking much better. The cut on his forehead will be scabbed over, much of the blood washed out of his clothes, and his limp seems to be gone.
"You do heal fast," Gabriel says, some of that drawl coming out more thickly on some syllables. "I guess that's good when you're hunting things that heal even faster? And here I am, just a squishy man who needs to wear armor, or die. Still, it's good to be underestimated."
Jaxain laughs at that comment, seeming indeed much refreshed. "I don't know about that, man. Hell, I'm just a squishy as you are. Cept for the hell my grandfather put me through from the age of 3 to 18, I'm just like anyone else. Would you give up your entire childhood just to be able to kill a vampire now and then?" He asks, seeming somewhat agitated not by Gabriel, but by the question he just asked. "I sure as hell know I wouldn't, if I was given a chance." With that, he flops back onto the chair he just left.
"I gave up my childhood keeping my mother and some of the kids our little town clothed and fed. The Great Depression sucked," Gabriel says with a shrug. "Everyone has a past that molded them into what they became. You can choose to hate it or embrace it, I suppose, but the truth is that it happens to all of us. He picks up a mug and drinks from it, perhaps thinking over his own past. "Of course, it goes beyond childhood. We are who we are, right, Jax?"
Jaxain sighs and, for a moment, seems somewhat chagrined. Darn old people and their darn wisdom... "Yeah, good point, man. It's just, sometimes, you know, I wish I didn't have to feel so obligated to help people all the time. But it's what I was raised to do, you know? 'Fight evil with honor!' and all that crap." He smirks and shrugs self effacingly, looking up at Gabriel, showing Jax knows it's not 'crap', but that sometimes it is a lot of responsibility for a young man. "But still, I guess I wouldn't change who I am even if I could." he says, almost sounding as though he believes it. "What made you so depressed?"
The older fellow leans back in his chair. "That's right. We are who we are, and the good ones need to stop the bad ones, to watch out for the ones who can't help themselves. The Great Depression was a socio-economic thing, not a personal thing." Gabriel sips some coffee again and takes a moment to bite off some espresso brownie. "I got into my business because I had a family. Sixteen years old was a normal age to get married, and Europe was about to get stomped. So I joined up, I got sent into a program, I came out and it was what I do. At least when you're doing something good, you can look yourself in the mirror, right?"
Jaxain nods his head slowly and finishes off his now very cold coffee, his gaze deep in the cup. "Yeah, I guess so..." Then he looks up, "Wait, Europe was gonna get stomped? What does that mean?" He asks, eyebrows askew in confusion. "Program?"
Gabriel gives a soft smile, probably one that he's pretty used to giving at this point. He left wrist is held up just high enough to show a very military, very old-fashioned analog watch. "I mean that if you look closely, the date reads 1960. It was 1959 a few months ago, but that was September for me, and now we're in August according to this new calendar, and a little time has passed by my watch." He shrugs in amusement and makes it clear, "It's not a gimmick, and there is nothing wrong with it. My birth certificate reads November 11, 1918." His drawl turns into a mild chuckle. Any comment on the 'program' is sidelined for the moment. "How about you, Jax? What's your birth year?"
Jaxain blinks for a moment, not quite getting what the other man is saying. "Ummm, I guess about 87 PA how time is counted around here. What does 1960 mean in PA terms?" He asks innocently, squinting at the strange device on Gabriel's wrist. "I don't really follow you, man."
Gabriel cups his hands around one of his mugs. "I have no idea what year 1960 is in PA terms. I don't have any idea how long passed between my Gregorian calendar referencing the birth of Jesus versus the new Post-Apocalyptic one that references something, presumably, but I have no idea what. Still, as far as I'm concerned, no time passed. I was with my unit, my wife, on a testbed battleship in the middle of the Atlantic, then I was laying in a northern Missouri meadow with half the people dead and a battleship stuck in the ground at a 20 degree down bow-angle, listing to port." He shrugs and his eyes light up. "Go figure. I lost a lot in that one instant. But I've picked myself up, and moved on - not that I've forgotten the past. However, I would guess that I'm significantly older than you are, not that it means anything more than more time spent being alive."
Jaxain spends a moment trying to compute this strange information. "Well, you look a lot older than me." He says with a young man's lack of tact. "Sooooo you went through some kind of rift?" He hazards to guess. "And it took you from your world, to this one..." He nods, "I came here by Caravan, but... I don't think I could find home if I tried. Sometimes I wonder how..." he suddenly stops, "Oh! Is your family ok?" He asks, seeming genuinely concerned.
Gabriel's face falls a little, but he takes the questions as they come. "Given your numbers and counting my biologic age, I'm an entire lifetime of you, older than you. I'm 42. But the Raiders and the Company kept me very spry, and I'm quite active around here. I don't know if it was a rift, I just know that there were some War Department scientists doing an experiment, the Montana was the test bed. High-pitched whine, blue flash... I woke up in a field. I'm sure that I'll never go home, and I've come to peace with that." He sighs. "'Home no longer exists, unless I could change time in addition to moving in time. I left my family behind when we flashed, my wife was killed here - she's buried near where I sleep." He carefully and reverently unlatches a pocket right over his heart. One might peek a few small personal mementos, but in this case it's a small photograph that he lays out and places on the table. "My family. I don't know what happened to them, but I hope that they all lived happy, had children of their own, grew old, and died in their sleep."
Jaxain is, quite simply, shell-shocked. "Time? You are from the past?" he asks, seeming to have a bit of trouble with the concept. "Wow, that's a lot of kids!" He exclaims a moment later when he actually takes a good look at the picture. He looks up at Gabriel with a different light in his eye. "I'm sorry for your loss, sir." He says. "But it sure as heck looks like you had a full life." He looks back at the picture for several moments. "Wow. So life was pretty different then?"
The older man smiles again, a soft smile. "Yes, I've had a very fully life, and my intent is to continue living a full life. Hence, staying active and helping people, which is what I learned to do both as a child, as as a professional." Then, Gabriel can't help but laugh. "Yes, life was very different. In just about every way, really. Seriously. It's tough to find any way in which it's similar. This world, no.. YOUR world.. is very, very strange. Honestly?" He quirks his head to the side. "I really think that you'd prefer mine as much as I do."
Jaxain nods, and since the grass IS always greener on the other side, has no difficulty at all imagining a better world than his. "Yeah, I bet man." He says, the 'sir' disappearing as soon as it appeared. "So, like, do you have any secret techniques from the past? Can you train me how to fight better?" He asks, seeming to get a bit excited now that he 'understands.' what happened to Gabriel. "Or artifacts!"
Gabriel chuckles once more. "Yes, I have 'artifacts' I suppose. But with only a few personal exceptions, they were all of military type upon my departure. So... they're quite useful to me today. I get a lot of laughs, even from long-time friends at my rather, ah... expertise, I'll say... in conventional handguns and rifles. But as I keep telling them and as you might be interested - they fire silver rounds perfectly, and they aren't pea shooters. As for training to fight better? Probably not against vampires, but if you need asymmetric warfare... and other unusual things, that's what I'm trained in. Do you use silver rounds? I'm afraid that I can't power the techno-wizard weapons. No magic energy in me, not even a drop." That may be odd in and of itself.
Jaxain listens intently, nodding along and sometimes even pretending to understand all that is said. "What is asymmetric warfare? That sounds pretty neat." He looks around the bar for a moment and lowers his voice, "Actually I use swords and such against vampires, but silver rounds might be useful for long range fights." He doesn't seems to notice anything strange about Gabriel having no magical energy, but maybe his mystical theory just isn't that strong.
"My own hand to hand skills aren't meant for swords and such, though I did get a woman to teach me, just to be safe. If I need to throw a punch, I've done something wrong," Gabriel says with a chuckle. "Not that I can't," he clarifies. "I either operate from faaaaar away with a rifle -" he waves a hand as if suggesting a place across the city "- or reeeealy close," he says, shoving a hand into Jaxain's face before quickly pulling it back. "Basically, asymmetric warfare means that I do everything possible to fight dirty. Sometimes a larger target, sometimes... a very small one. Or just listening. Those are my vampires."
Jaxain nods, blinking and frowning for a moment at the hand pushed close to his face. "Ah, I see what you mean. Fighting dirty is essential to winning when one is fighting the Supernatural. If they expect your every move... well, you will soon be out of moves, and then, dead." He looks around the table, notices there is no food or coffee, and gets up to grab something. "You want something else?" he asks.
Gabriel waves off. "No, I'm good thanks. This is a strange place. You have some people who are just downright evil, and walking amongst us. You have some people who are so good and knight-like that they're completely useless. It seems that there are only a few apparently very strange people like me who understand that you can be a good and honest person, but recognize that when things need to be done... it can't always be nice and pretty." He watches the other man get up and go, and decides that it's a good time to return to his paper and stop talking a stranger's ear off. "Take care, Jaxain. Nice meeting you. Go find a woman named 'Erica.' You can usually find her at the Alibi, or Moe's. Can't find her, I think she lives at Raleigh's. Anyway, just tell her that the old man sent you for the convoy. Get you fighting something other than vampires." With a nod and a final smile, he fluffs his paper and starts reading - the 'famous beautiful people of Kingsdale' section already dumped on the floor.
Jaxain nods and pauses a moment to hear the final goodbye. "It was nice to meet you too man. It would be nice to work with you sometime, put our strange views to practice cleaning up a bit more of the city." he smiles, waves, and heads out to find something bigger and with way way more protein to eat.
