sirenspull_logs | Tut-tut, it looks like rain!

Entry tags:

Tut-tut, it looks like rain!

Who: Damon Gant and YOU!
When: Sunday morning to the afternoon
Where: Between sector 4 and 5
Summary: With his first day here, Gant is more than ready to start assimilating himself with the rest of society, but hearing that this is an island, he's determined to see the beach, no matter how foul the weather is! Feel free to catch him between train-stops 26. Elmer Stop and 1. Ravenwood Stop, he'll be happy to chat you up along the way. Or even at his last stop walking from the train station past Better Afterlife Mortuary, Cinnagrad Cemetery, McKinley Zoo and towards the Aquarium.
Warnings: Only if you're allergic to happiness

The rain, rain, rain came down, down, down in rushing, rising rivulets... but Damon Gant was quick to the task of keeping dry, dry, dry. After all, his lightning-shock of hair would have deflated under the drizzle, and he couldn't have that, now could he? The old gentleman was in his Sunday's best; his glaring suit of sunset orange that he lived and died in. It was a difficult color to miss, especially amongst the grim transit public. They were either quick to look away so his radiance wouldn't burn into their retinas, or their gaze was fixated on him like moths to a whimsical flame.

Gant had that sort of magnetism to him. Enough that before entering the train station he managed to barter for a ticket and sweet-talked another into giving him their umbrella. Charm and benevolence were Gant's most powerful weapons in strange places he had never been... they weren't too shabby back home either. Without a doubt, Gant had the sort of air that wriggled itself into your heart where he would latch on and never let go. Some even went so far as to symbolically sell their soul to him.

For now there was no need for such a strangle-hold on anyone, Gant was his own man. Free of the fools he left behind, free of the hushed rumors and lies, the doubters and good-for-nothings, the objectors and persecutors, the sentencing, the shackles, the bars, the memory of the long green mile, and the memory of the last deep sleep. He had been executed but knew when he had awoken on this isle not between heaven or hell, but Canada of all the silly places, that his last words to the court held ever so true.

"You see, if I listen carefully, I can hear it right now...

...The sound of a new beginning!"

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Jake had managed to convince his superiors to let him on patrol early - thank god, the usual patrol officer for the morning had called in sick, and he managed to ask just at the right time. He'd taken the patrol car almost immediately and gone. They'd let him go, but not for the reason they thought - in reality, he was going to search the island for Gant and track him down. If it meant searching in every nook and cranny of the city that a rat such as Gant could burrow his way into, he was sure as hell going to do it.

After searching for several hours around the baseball diamond, he could only conclude that Gant had walked off on his own. Cursing his luck, he started driving again, this time ranging in wider circles. That bastard just had to be somewhere, he had to be. He kept thinking of all the possible places Gant could be, but even attempting to think like Gant was starting to make his blood boil. For now, staying in wide circles was probably going to be easiest, though it meant he couldn't search businesses or the like.

As luck would have it, Jake got a glimpse - just a glimpse. The person that had turned the corner just then appeared to be the man he was looking for walking along the street. Quickly he turned the corner, and drove closer. He slowed down after he confirmed his suspicion, his eyes looking over the grayed hair and the tanned skin of his neck, with that ridiculously orange suit.

It was possible to just run him over, right? There might be a few witnesses, but if he could just-

No. No. Killing a man just for the hell of it would make him more like the bastard he was glaring at right now. Dammit. Dammit.

It didn't take long for him to pull over to the side of the road and stop. He paused, took a deep breath. Took another for good measure. And then, he stopped the engine. He stepped out of the car, the jingle of his spurs barely noticeable to his own ears. All that concerned him was the person in front of him, who was still walking away. Jake quickly followed after him, slowing down as he got within loud speaking distance.

"You wouldn't by any chance be tryin' to start trouble, now would'ja, Gant?"

Just past that corner was the wide open boardwalk that lead out to the pristine sea. Gant had made his destination after chatting up with an old friend. His lungs filled in deeply with the crisp salty air, feeling the mist of the waves not far ahead of him ghosting at his cheeks.

Long before those jingling spurs confirmed his suspicions, Gant knew all too well he was being followed. The rose-colored lenses in front of his eyes weren't just for show, he ever so often upturned them to discreetly glance behind himself. There was that abhorrent smell as well. The scent of burnt rawhide, suede, and cheap whiskey. A filthy concoction that made his stomach churn.

Always when Gant was looking for a moment of peace at mind, that second-rate cowboy would shoehorn his way into his path. But time had passed. Things had changed. Their world and everything that they knew of it had changed.

He wasn't about to allow his noxious stench to ruin it.

As he heard that stern drawl he kept walking still, as if his words were just howls on the wind that played with his coat-ends. Expensive black loafers sunk into the wet sand, leaving a deep impression of his immense weight. Just because he was dead hardly meant he wasn't still a daunting presence. After a few more steps, he finally stopped a few yards away. He stared intently at the billowing gray skies and watched the waves roll in with thunderous crests.

The ocean's vast power and immaculacy was something he admired above all things. Its intensity inspired him like no other... and in a way he had instilled its mercilessness in himself. Like its roaring surf, he could erode away even at the mightiest of mountains. Like its vast depths, none would ever know what lied at the very heart of himself.

When he finally turned, his bright coat slid off his shoulders, revealing his black oxford as he slung the suit over his shoulder, where it flagged in the sea-mist like liquid flames. He stared at that undeserving cretin with a gaze that remained unreadable, but a smirk that marked all rebellion. Not an ounce of shame radiated off him.

"I'm just an old man rekindling his love for the sea. It seems the only one looking troubled... is you, boy."

Edited 2012-03-19 04:59 (UTC)

The sea was not exactly where Jake wanted to be - it was a little too cold for his liking. Still, he had the poncho, which broke some of the wind coming in from the ocean, a little more than a breeze but a little less than a torrent. Thankfully his trusty hat was staying on too. He did tilt it just a little, for safe measure.

The eyes that turned on him stared back at him with the energy of a thousand burning suns. But, thanks to two years of constantly managing his way in toward Gant, he'd gotten a bit used to it by now. He could hold out better than most against The Stare, and in fact didn't even seem to bat an eye as Gant turned to watch him. The cool exterior Gant was showing off was nowhere near enough to scare him, either. He'd been scared enough in the beginning, but hating this man for the better part of two years had given him a courage, a resolve that was not going to be easily broken. Especially not by the bastard that had tried to take him down so ruthlessly before.

But it made Jake's blood burn through his veins to see Gant acting so superior, so guiltless. Not that he seemed like he didn't know what he'd done, but that he so obviously didn't care. Neil's life was not something that was so trivial, so cheap that this man could be acting in such a way. He felt his fist clench tight underneath his poncho, his teeth gritting together in nothing but pure rage. He refused to let this man shake him so early on in the game, though, so in response Jake just rested both his hands on his hips, not a threatening gesture nor a submissive one, but a gesture that indicated he was relaxed but ready for anything.

"There ain't nothin' old man about you, Gant." Jake replied, his eyes scanning the man for any changes, any subtle body movement that might give away something. "Reckon you mighta had a good reason for wanderin' about the Port without so much as checkin' out yer new place at the Towers. But I warn ya, Gant, doin' this sorta thing at night's a surefire way to get yerself in a heap of trouble." Not that Jake would have minded Gant being horrendously eaten by the creatures that roamed the streets of Siren's Port every night, but, this was his way of extending an olive branch. As long as Gant played by the rules here, Jake wouldn't have to mercilessly hunt him down. Those were the words unspoken to Gant that Jake was more than eager to show with his eyes.

"And it's Detective Marshall to you, Mister Gant." Jake added this little retort and shifted his shoulders a little so that his proud detective's badge shone in the sun. He was back where he needed to be, and this time, he wasn't going to let Gant ruin it.

Damon Gant was a timeless man. Were it not for the graying and shocks of white in his hair, one could mistake his youthful demeanor for a man in his prime. This was the grande carriage on which he rode in on since the world first knew his name. Just as he was when he stepped into the police department, none knew what to make of him, for his mirthful and benevolent guise was so believable it was almost sin to doubt it.

Nothing would change. Not even in death would he allow it. Did you think I learned my lesson? Think again. Those cool viridian eyes took in the obvious pride that Jake took in his shiny new badge. To Gant, it was nothing but a piece of tin. About as worthless as the toy-like sheriff's star Jake would brandish about like he was the star-role of an Old West reenactment.

An act. A pitiful romanticized act. He saw the boy idolized the lawless scum of the old west as if they were something to be praised. To him... he looked like nothing more than a child playing dress-up.

"A detective are you now, Jakey? I hope you can do me the favor of not wasting this second chance. I'm sure you've earned it." His smile was pleasant as always, but it did not reach those eyes that continued to look through him as if he were but a translucent will-o-wisp.

His intense gaze softened then, as if he were tired and worn, but his body remain resolute, standing like an unmovable pillar against the twisting wind as the waves rumbled forebodingly in the short distance.

"But you needn't worry about little ol' me. I had my bases covered, like always." He had accepted the offer the Towers gave him, but he really had no mind to stay. Not after he heard about the new comer fund which he readily signed the paperwork for.

The message Gant was sending him was loud and clear - he was still the same old Gant he had always been. And that meant Jake still held the same old grudge he always had. Sure, Jake had a forgiving spirit most of the time... but not for Damon Gant. Like the men of the Wild West, he was still seeking revenge, and nothing was going to sate that. Not while Gant was still walking freely around this Port, the town he'd protected for about nine months.

He almost let out a snarl when he heard that condescending name - Jakey. It was Jake, god dammit. He was quick on the draw to correct Gant's mistake. "Detective Marshall is my official title, Gant, and I'd like you to stick to that." He wasn't going to allow Gant to tarnish his badge like that, and reduce his victory to nothing. Especially not if he knew just what Gant thought of his achievement in general. Still, he couldn't help a subtle jab at the man who'd ruined his life in so many ways. "Did it with my own blood, sweat, 'n tears. Y'know, the same way when I first became a detective."

Jake continued to watch over Gant, not sure he liked the sudden change in mood after that. He wasn't pleased with Gant's excuses for small talk, either - but then again, what about this man did please him? Nothing.

"Y'ain't always had yer bases covered. There've been times you screwed up, just like every human bein' on this planet." It was more of a musing thought, that a man so calculating could screw up on something so basic. "You know everything there is to know 'bout this island, then. I'm surprised you'd make yer way here if you knew this already. Darkness ain't nothin' to sneeze at."

The persistent little bugger was right on one account. For as calculating and clever as he was, Gant had slipped up in the split-second he had to contrive and devise his plot to entrap the prosecution office in his grasp. Though he was the Crime Computer, Human Error was his fatal Achilles. Surprisingly though, the exposure of his defeat did not faze him. It was a wound that had long healed before the execution needle put him down for the big sleep.

He had laughed when he was caught, knowing well that he hadn't made a very good criminal. He was laughing now that fate would grant him another chance.

He smiled again, one far more genuine than the last, "They say the charm comes the third time around, you know better than to take me for a fool."

What that meant was ominous at best. This city offered him a plethora of options to rise to the top. The top of what, was the question at hand. He turned his back again to redirect it at the sea. The buzzing from the Core's draw on him was almost painful, but the sight he beheld was worth it. Death had been almost pleasant. Nothing could shake him.

Nothing would shake him.

"I came here with the warnings fresh in my mind, Officer." he spoke out above the soughing of the waves with a blithe chuckle.

Edited 2012-03-22 05:31 (UTC)

"I know way better than to take you for a fool, but I know even more than that, it's best just not to give you that third chance, if I can help it." If Gant was going to threaten him, he was more than happy to return the favor. But, logic did get the best of him, and he was quick to add, "But I ain't gonna have to arrest you. Only way I'd do that is if you got yerself caught up in some sorta murder. You wouldn't be doin' nothin' like that here, wouldja?"

Jake had gotten used to the ache in his chest around the beach - that he'd been acclimated to within the first couple of months or so. He just wasn't sure if it was the Pull itself or the adrenaline pumping through his veins that was making his heart beat so fast. He was pretty sure it was a mix of both, though with the way he felt so tense around the man in front of him, it was possible it was purely his reaction to being around him, of all people.

And he had caught that little dismissal Gant had given him, and the way he so flippantly ignored his true, proper title, instead referring to him by the title he'd had for the past two years in their world. Officer. Gant had been the one who'd demoted him to Officer in the first place. Officer Marshall, his ass! Jake couldn't help but feel his jaw lock up with anger. After giving him a few more seconds to feel smug about himself, Jake replied rather curtly, "Don't reckon y'heard me the last time. It's Detective Marshall, Mister Gant. I'd like ya t'use my proper title, if it ain't too hard on yer memory to remind yerself."

"You can't take what you haven't the authority give." This chance was something he was going to put a strangle-hold on. No one would rip it from him lest they wanted to end up like poor Neily.

"Neither am I about to throw away what I've been granted with some nonentity's blood on my hands." A curl of his lip exposed his sharp eye-tooth, as if he had just walked out of the gates of Hell and hadn't yet shed his horns. The gall that filthy upstart had to think he had to wallow in blood just to get his way.

How Jake was so full-of-himself about that flimsy title of his was almost pathetic enough to make him feel sorry for him. Poor fellow. No lot in life but to strive for a petty banner for him to flag about. Were Gant to roll his eyes they'd have fallen out of his head from the paltriness of it all.

"So quick to unctuously--" He paused, waiting for the wooden cogs to set on fire in Jake's skull, "...That's greasily for you laic folk--to boast about the things you've done with your measly sweat and tears. I hope the little multiple-choice proficiency test you took to reclaim that moniker didn't give you a paper-cut." He derided with a tittering little snicker. He was surprised the hick still knew how to work a pencil, let alone how to fill in the blanks.

"Guess that's the only difference between upstanding folk and cold-blooded killers. Upstanding folk know the weight of a human life. Murderers and the like don't care. It's just another nonentity t'them." Jake had quite specifically chosen that word over all the others, with his nonchalant tone and expression. Heavy implication was the only way he seemed to be able to get under Gant's skin, if at all. One thing Gant was good at was a poker face. Jake was just going to have to tie him at his own game.

"Sweat and tears means a lot more to some folk than it does to others. That don't mean you should devalue it so quick by callin' it measly. You had to take the test at one point. Ain't sure you remember, it was a long time ago since you were an honest man, but they put a lot more into it than a multiple choice an' a pat on the back." He kept his gaze focused, unwavering, his face relaxed but somehow still deadly serious. "This place is dangerous, they gotta know you can defend yerself and other folks 'round here."

His gaze narrowed just a bit as he continued. "I just want you to know 'zactly what it is you're gettin' into, old timer. This ain't L.A., much as you might want it to be."

Jake's diatribes went in one ear and flew out the other. All that cloying nobility and self-righteous horse-shit had him about bored to tears at this point. Yet he stared at him with that piercing gaze that could turn armor to shreds and leave the soul bare and naked to his judgement.

This charlatan would know his place again soon enough.

Let him think he has the upper hand, it would be of no consequence to Gant. He feigned listening to his lecturing and smiled a rather honest smile.

"Well.. You'll just have to keep tabs on me to see, wont you Detective?" The saccharine purr of that title held a promise that whatever it was that he found, it would not come in Jake's favor. But make no mistake, he would be making doubly sure to keep his eyes on him as well. Can't fool a man like him twice.

Gant should have never left that scoundrel alone in that security office.

As the storm began its descent upon the inlands, the winds kicked up with a terrible fury and from the shoreline the pelting of rain fell in thick misting drapes towards them.

Their standoff would have to come to a close here, and just in time too. For they were momentarily shrouded in the blinding highbeams of a roaring black beast. A 1970 Mercedes Grand 600 pulled up, its horn blaring to alert whatever plebeians about that they were not welcome before its grandeur. A capped chauffeur stepped out from the driver's seat and came about to the side facing the cop and gent, and bowed as he opened the back passenger door.

"Mr. Gant." In the pitch dark of the limousine one could see a pair of crossed legs and a cane tapping on the floor rather impatiently.

The ex-Chief grinned, ever so pleased with the timing, "And now's my time to be off and start anew." He drifted past Jake without another glance as he stepped into the purring vehicle, but paused halfway digging underneath the seat to toss something large Jake's way.

"A storm's coming your way, boy, try not to let it rain on your parade. Ta-ta!" He dismissed himself merrily before the car rolled off to depart.

The item in question... was a large blue umbrella.

Edited 2012-05-16 06:46 (UTC)

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Tut-tut, it looks like rain!

Location is up to you?

The beach boardwalk ;)

How about under it next time? ;)

You got it baby <3

Oh baby baby <3

Re: Oh baby baby <3

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