|Darth Calliope's Creative Journal. (dee_cees_cj) wrote,|
@ 2011-01-11 06:32:00
Chapter Two: Semper Fidelis
It wasn't so much that he disliked the bartender; in fact, dislike wasn't a strong enough word for Jet's feeling toward him. Oh no, if he had said or done what he wanted to, that bartender would be spat on, chewed out, and then shot for good measure.
No one calls me a cheap skate, damn it! NO ONE!
"Are you done sulking? If so, I'd like my money some time this YEAR!" Huffed the bartender, slamming a meaty fist down onto the warped bar in front of Jet. Jet blinked at the bartender and then gave him a dirty look that said "Say that again, you bastard, say that again…"
"I wonder, are all of your relatives so money hungry and ugly?” simpered Jet, picking up a dirty shot glass and looking at the bartender through it with amusement. The bartender knew better than to take the bait that the young Drifter had set out… However…
"No, they are not; I can assure you that my wife and kids are lovelier than you will ever be!" Said the bartender calmly, handily snatching the glass away from Jet and scoffing at him. Virginia sat at the table adjacent to the bar with Clive, glaring at Jet with irritation.
Why must he be so damn stubborn?!
"YOU have children?!" flinched Jet, looking at the bartender with a pitiful, albeit sarcastic smirk. Again, the temperature rose several more degrees in Virginia's shaking body.
Get over it Jet! Stop being an asshole and pay the guy before we get booted!
Surprisingly, the bartender did not erupt as Jet had anticipated he would, instead, he simply gave the young man a smile and looked down at the shot glass that he was cleaning.
"Say what you will, you fucking cheap skate, I will get my money…" He looked up from the glass and gave him a sharp gaze. "One way or another…” Jet blinked to this and gave him an arrogant smile of his own. Virginia's breath caught in her throat and she stormed over to the bartender and Jet. The bartender gave her a sweet smile and Jet glared at her.
"How much do we owe you?" She huffed, returning Jet's glare. The bartender simply chuckled and set the glass down beneath counter.
"You don't owe me anything sweetie, your little friend" He said, indicating Jet with a jerk of his thumb.
"Owes me, it is not your place to pay his debt."
"And it's perfectly okay to pay Gallows' and Clive's?!" exclaimed Jet, standing up belligerently before Virginia and staring at her with ice glazed eyes. Virginia retorted by giving him an evil glance of his own.
"No…” She seethed, her fist clenching at her side. "The last time I checked, Gallows and Clive paid for their OWN drinks, Jet." This time, Jet DID flinch, but not at what she said, oh no, he could have handled that statement with little or no consequence, no, what got to him was how she said it.
It sounds like she's a robot or something… a very angry robot that's about to rip me in two…
"W-well, they don't sometimes!" retorted Jet after a moment of shocked silence. Virginia was about to yell her response when she heard foot falls on the stair well. She looked up and saw Gallows descending the stairs, his hands lax to his side and his eyes looking tranquilly ahead. Virginia continued to watch him as he walked across the room in a leisurely pace, a slight smile crossing his face.
"How much does he owe?" Asked Gallows pleasantly as he pushed Jet lightly away from Virginia and gave the young lady a smile. Virginia didn't know how to respond, so she simply looked at Gallows with befuddlement. Jet was about to say something to the effect of he didn't owe anything when Gallows' glance stopped him dead in his tracks. "Don't fuck with me." said his icy blue eyes. The bartender shrugged. "He owes me 400 Gella, but I'm not going to ask you to pay it! It's HIS debt, not yours!" To this Gallows chuckled, causing Virginia to take a couple of instinctive steps back.
"You misunderstand me. I've no intention of paying his debt…" Gallows cooed, looking down at Jet who glared back up at him angrily.
And what are you planning to do, you dumb behemoth?!
It was then Virginia got a pang of fear in her breast.
If it's what I think… Oh…
The sound of a meaty thud followed by Jet's jaw dislocating shattered her hazy thoughts. She blinked as she watched Jet fall down in slow motion, blood flowing from the surprised "O" of his mouth as he fell.
Gallows knelt down beside the body and extracted the said amount from Jet's wallet with almost bandit like stealth. The bartender, at a lost for words, simply blinked at Gallows as he rose and set the money on top of the bar with a smile.
"There's your money, I'm sorry that he causes so much trouble." Said Gallows quietly, bowing apologetically to both the bartender and Virginia, his eyes locking on Virginia's as he rose. "I'm sorry, Virginia…” Said his aqua orbs mournfully as he dropped his hands back down to his side and seemingly glided across the room and up the stairs.
Virginia said nothing but nodded her head to acknowledge and accept his unsaid apology.
Jet's groan brought her gaze to his slowly rising form.
"T-that BASTARD!" Spat Jet through a thin film of blood. Virginia closed her eyes and sighed. This was going to be a long night.
Jet lay in the bed of his dingy room and glared hatefully at the ceiling.
Damn him! He had no right to punch me like that!
Jet took in a breath that sounded more like a hiss of a scalded cat.
I should make him pay for what he did… But how could I do that?
Well, there's always the lovely idea of slipping something into his drink that'll screw him up good.
But, could I really bring myself to do that? He may have punched me, but he IS my team mate… and… like it or not, I deserved the…
NO! You didn't DESERVE that punch! He did it just to get back at you for his own selfish reasons! Why are you so blind?!
"Great, I'm having an argument with myself…” Jet muttered, turning around in his bed and burying his face into the pillow.
Leave me alone…
Not until you see reason…
And who died and gave you that title? Thought Jet to “Reason” with a superior smirk.
It has existed since the dawn of time. Reason is what taught men that fire burned and that death was an inevitable cycle of life.
You fail to impress me with your words. Good night. Scoffed Jet as he closed his eyes.
Don't tell me that you're going to give up that easily… To this, Jet sat up and glanced around the room, confirming to himself that an intruder had not broken in.
Nothing… Just who in the hell are you?
I am reason… I am…
Don't give me that line of bull shit! Tell me, right now, who you are! To this, "Reason" took in a deep breath and then let it out with a long sigh.
I am known simply as program Animus00, my main function is to provide you with the necessary hormones by triggering certain synapses in your brain. However, as time passed, I began to study these "emotions" I supposedly triggered and started to feel the need to give my self a voice and a personality. Hence, the voice of "Reason" was born within you.
I see, so you were born from one of the many impulses sent by my CPU. Great.
That is where you are wrong. You no longer have a "CPU" as you call it. You, in fact, have a human brain.
And how do you figure that, pray tell.
During your inception, Elliot Enduro installed small nanomachines to slowly weave membranes and the like around your reactors and receptors.
Meaning that, over time, the nanomachines fused with the CPU and formed your brain.
So, basically, I have a brain. Big deal, that still doesn't explain why I should give a damn about what you say…
Reason sighed to this and directed Jet's eyes toward the window.
Look out, what do you see?
I see the sky.
Are you SURE that's the sky and not the earth?
Yes, I am quite sure THAT is the SKY! Why are you asking me this?
Merely to prove a point, bear with me for just a moment longer.
Fine, maybe these garbles of nonsense with finally start making SENSE!
You seem so confident in saying that the sky is not the earth and vice versa. What makes you so sure of your assumption?
It's common sense!
And, isn't "Sense" another word for reason?
To this, Jet did not respond verbally, but merely shook his head in dull agreement.
In the same token, reason or "sense" as you call it, would say that such a harsh action would constitute an even harsher response… Or so I would imagine.
I'm really beginning to wonder about your sanity, Reason, after all, you're pretty much telling me to ruin someone's life…
No, I am just the voice of your subconscious. Merely an announcer to your heart's desires.
What heart? Come on, man, you know that I don't have one of those!
Oh, but you do… and your heart is filled with rage… I can feel it burning inside of you…
… Whatever. Look, if I do what you want, will you go away?
I can never truly go away, after all, I am you…
There was a long moment of silence and then Jet spoke up softly.
"Tell me what to do. I agree, Gallows needs to learn a lesson about punching people…” He rubbed his jaw sullenly, feeling the itch of drying blood on his chin.
And, the sooner… the better.
Patience, my friend, revenge will soon be yours.
I don't seek "revenge" and I wish that you would stop saying that… You make me sound so cold and calculating.
Revenge is a dish best served cold.
Jet did not know how to respond to this as he sat up from the bed, his eyes still locked on the window.
Am I truly seeking revenge?
And, to his chagrin, the answer was a resounding "Yes" in his skull.
"Fine…” He muttered, picking up his gun and putting it into its holster.
You won't be needing that, what we seek is right under our noses… literally.
"Huh?" replied Jet in a rather flabbergasted manner. Reason snickered and snorted a nasally snort.
Every inn has its share of "goodies". These "goodies" are normally stored away in the janitor's closet. You have the information you need locked up in your head. I can free that knowledge if you would like. Heck, I can unlock a lot more than that.
First you are "reason" and now you're a gatekeeper? Make up your mind…
Do you just want to sit here and make idle chit chat like a couple of old ladies, or do you want to teach that big bastard a lesson or two?
Jet's response was abundantly clear as he walked toward the door with a caustic smile on his face.
I will be laughing last.