Post by Delilah Ghost on Sept 27, 2007 14:55:09 GMT -6
((having some fun with the waybackstoryline machine.......enjoy?*lol*))
I stood there, staring at the bookshelf next to the big screen in the office. Thousands of dollars in video games stared back at me, and I didn't have the slightest idea where to start. It was getting on towards one and some change in the a.m. and I couldn't sleep for anything.
Did it have something to do with my favorite male of the non-speaking variety being absent from the bedchamber?
Perhaps. Pardon the grin. I can't help the grin. Cats, canaries, satisfaction, so on and so forth. He makes me grin silly.
So, where was I? Oh yeah. I have too many video games. A little Halo? Meh. Not in the mood. Mortal Kombat? Meh again. If I want that, I'll just go to work. Some Burnout, maybe? Probably shouldn't. If I play any of those long enough I might have to go for a drive, which would not be of the good. Really not in the mood for any Final Fantasies. How about some Star Wars? Well, not Knights of the Old Republic, one or two. I won't leave the couch for days. What else do I got?
"OOOoooo....Lego Star Wars. Sweet."
And of course, soon as I pop it in the PS2, the little light on the phone has to start blinking. Of course. Wonder what Sammy wants?
"You have until it finishes loading. Speak fast, you should."
"Del? Captain Trips is here."
Way to kill the gaming mood, Sammy. Hopefully I can come back to this after I find out why Trips is paying us a visit.
Wonder if he brought the cat?
So now I'm peeking out over the swinging doors at a nervous Sammy and a gigantic black cat sitting on my bar. Cool. He did bring the cat. I love that cat. The man in question was sitting at the end of the bar, merely feet away from me. He was looking rather distinguished in his tweed overcoat and matching suit, his once black hair going the salt and pepper route. Captian Trips, otherwise known as Isaiah Selwyn, was called uncle by the Finnagan kids, but he was actually Ma Finnagan's cousin. From the welsh side of the family. Looked it, too. Black hair, striking blue eyes and skin as pale white as mine. I don't think it's possible for that man to get a tan. At all. He'll glow in the dark even if you locked him in a tanning bed for a whole day. Trips took me under his wing, so to speak, after my...mess...the Corps got me into. Introduced me to the Finnagan clan too.
He always said he would have dumped me into the nearest gutter, but Ozymandias wouldn't let him. Ozymandias, Ozzy for short, is the giant beast of a cat that he takes everywhere. Well, nearly everywhere. I don't think Trips can stop him, even if he wanted to. Strange ass cat. I've seen that cat stare down the size of...well...about six of me. Perhaps I exaggerate a bit, but just about the size part. Ozzy himself is a big Jiminy Cricket cat. Freakishly big. Dog sized, even. He has these evil yellow eyes that just bore right into you. When I was living with Trips I always locked my bedroom door when I went to sleep. Never was too sure that Ozzy wasn't plotting to kill me in my sleep. He always had that sort of look on his cat face. Both Sammy and Pete are a little scared of him. Ozzy's never done anything to Sammy, but every time he sees Pete...well...Pete tries to wear a cup when he hears Trips and Ozzy are in town. Ma's even threatened to shoot him if she sees him. Something about ruining her favorite fur coat.
Did I mention Ozzy can talk? Just 'hello' and 'no', but it's weird as hell.
"Isaiah Selwyn. It's been ages," I say as I push through the doors.
"That it has, darling girl. We were in town and the infernal beast insisted we pay you a visit."
"Is that so? Hey there, Ozzy."
"Helloooooooooo," the cat yowled, rolling over onto his back and stretching out. I just had to grin at that. Damned thing loves having his belly rubbed.
"Sammy? Why don't you go ahead and take off. I'll clean up tonight."
She shot me a grateful look, grabbed her purse and headed for the back. Bet I'll get all sorts of interesting questions tomorrow. Might as well make some coffee.
"So, Trips, you gonna tell me why you're really here or are you going to make me play twenty questions for the rest of the night?"
"We can't just pay family a visit?"
"A visit?" Oh, that's rich. "You just felt like crossing the pond to see Pete, Sammy and the chick your cousin practically adopted? Gonna hop on over to New York to see Ma Tommi too?"
"Is that so hard to believe?"
"Yes," I shoot back, hitting the start button on the coffeemaker and turning back to him. "Because Captain Trips doesn't just pay anyone a visit. I know that cat'll be puking in your shoes the first chance he gets for making him fly. I also know that Ma'll shoot him if she gets the chance."
"True enough."
"So what gives?"
"I thought I should come and see you."
"Quit dancin' around it, Trips. You ain't even english, so give up the proper gentleman crap."
"Since I am a gentleman, I won't take offence at you using the word 'english' in reference to myself," he said, smiling, "I honestly did come to see you. You're the only member of the family that actually likes Ozymandias."
"Meaning I'm the only one he likes."
"Oh, he's passing fond of Pete. Or at least fond of using his shins as a scratching post."
"NoooOOOOooooo."
"Hush, you. But really, Delilah, how are you?"
"Peachy with a side of keen, Cap. Couldn't be better."
"And this professional wrestling thing? Last time I talked to my gentle and mild cousin, she was raging on about sending the boys to Arkansas to teach a Phil and En Fuego a thing about feet and ball peen hammers."
"That sounds like Ma Finnagan alright." And it did. Anyone that says the famed Irish temper is just a stereotype has never met Tommi Finnagan.
"Good thing we ain't doing any shows in New York anytime soon. I may be a hard b*tch, but Ma makes me look like a friggin' nun when she gets goin'."
"I don't know about that. Tommi and I knew some rather vicious nuns when we were children."
"I don't doubt that."
Oh, there it is. I knew it was coming. The 'oh you silly little girl' smile. I hate that.
"I just wanted to make sure everything was going alright. Especially if it was the same Phillip Shane Abernathy that...."
"That may have ran in the same circles I once did and you still do? From what I understand, Philly's as erased as I am. Answer your question?"
"Answers it well enough. Now for another. Do you really believe this little blood feud will be settled in the ring?"
Now that's a good question, isn't it? I buy myself a little time to think by pouring us a couple of cups of coffee.
"Honestly? No. Philly and I will never be done. No settling. No truce, no peace treaty. Nothing. Unless we get sucked into Bizarro world, and then we'll be best of friends. There's only one way to finish it, and neither of us is that easy to kill."
"True enough."
"Now you're here because?"
"Like I said, I wanted to see an old friend."
Better not to push it. He'll just stick with that annoying little enigmatic grin until I hit him. Where do you think I get it from?
"Giving up already?"
"Better to plead the fifth. Leave a little mystery between us."
"There is very little mystery between us, Delilah."
"Bite me, Isaiah. Are you going to let Ozzy drink your coffee?"
"I rather enjoy having all my fingers, thank you. Now what about this Mikey fellow? Things going well with him?"
I tried to keep the silly grin off my face, but I couldn't.
"I see. That good. I'm happy for you."
"I don't even have words for it, Trips. Unfortunatly there's a little part of me that reminds myself how much of a train wreck my love life usually ends up turning into. Hopefully that won't happen with him."
"It didn't happen with us."
Now THAT came out of nowhere, didn't it?
"No, Trips, not really."
"We'll always have Paris, I suppose."
"No. What we'll have is a fishing boat named Paris, the Russian coast, and nearly starting world war three. Whatever happened to the Skipper anyway?"
"Fiji, last I heard. But alas, now that I've worn out our welcome, we should be going. Oz?"
"HellooOOoooooo."
I watch as Trips and Ozzy head for the door, wondering who was leading who.
"Trips?"
"Yes?"
The air seemed to grow heavy with the history between us.
"Don't be a stranger."
"I won't, darling girl. Keep safe."
And with that, he was out the door. I wonder what the real reason for coming was?
"It's safe, Sammy, they're gone."
"How did you know I was still here?"
"Never heard the back door open or shut."
"Oh."
She came up beside me, staring at the front door just like I was. The sound of the door closing behind Isaiah still hung in the air.
"So....world war three?"
I nodded, still watching the door.
"Short or long version?"
"Umm....short?"
"Short version would be that Trips and I were visiting a friend of his in Alaska. Owns some fishing boats up there. Called Freddy Merchant. Well we, along with one of his captains, all proceeded to get mind-boggling wasted and decided to take a little pleasure cruise. We all hop on Skipper's boat, Paris, and head off out to sea. After commiting various acts of piracy, we happened to run into a Russian sub. The Navy shows up, everyone is reaching for the big guns and we tell them all to fuck off and head for open waters."
I can feel Sammy's stare on the side of my head.
"You asked."
"Is that why you call him Captain Trips?
"No. I call him Captain Trips because he has two of everything Stephen King has ever written. That's why."
Yup. Still staring.
"I'm going home."
Soon after, the door closed behind her.
So. Here I am. I started out with a sleepless night and ended up with the desire to sleep for at least a year. Too much to think about now, though. Might as well take the coffee with me and hit the couch. Take my mind off of our little talk there. Try to ignore thoughts of beating Del Taco with a shovel and burying Philly boy in concrete.
Alive.
On top of that? Try like hell to ignore the big ass train that seems to be heading my way. Something just doesn't feel right. Yeah. Better to just hide out on the couch for a bit.
I turn around to walk to the end of the bar and slip a little bit. Looking down, I see a folded napkin at my feet. Just gotta be so damned mysterious, don'tcha Trips? Bet there's something written on it, too.
Mmm-hmm. The name of one big ass train.
Roland.
Irony, no? But is this the only thing coming? Is this the only reason why I feel like everything's about to get a whole bunch worse?
My luck? Probably not.
I stood there, staring at the bookshelf next to the big screen in the office. Thousands of dollars in video games stared back at me, and I didn't have the slightest idea where to start. It was getting on towards one and some change in the a.m. and I couldn't sleep for anything.
Did it have something to do with my favorite male of the non-speaking variety being absent from the bedchamber?
Perhaps. Pardon the grin. I can't help the grin. Cats, canaries, satisfaction, so on and so forth. He makes me grin silly.
So, where was I? Oh yeah. I have too many video games. A little Halo? Meh. Not in the mood. Mortal Kombat? Meh again. If I want that, I'll just go to work. Some Burnout, maybe? Probably shouldn't. If I play any of those long enough I might have to go for a drive, which would not be of the good. Really not in the mood for any Final Fantasies. How about some Star Wars? Well, not Knights of the Old Republic, one or two. I won't leave the couch for days. What else do I got?
"OOOoooo....Lego Star Wars. Sweet."
And of course, soon as I pop it in the PS2, the little light on the phone has to start blinking. Of course. Wonder what Sammy wants?
"You have until it finishes loading. Speak fast, you should."
"Del? Captain Trips is here."
Way to kill the gaming mood, Sammy. Hopefully I can come back to this after I find out why Trips is paying us a visit.
Wonder if he brought the cat?
So now I'm peeking out over the swinging doors at a nervous Sammy and a gigantic black cat sitting on my bar. Cool. He did bring the cat. I love that cat. The man in question was sitting at the end of the bar, merely feet away from me. He was looking rather distinguished in his tweed overcoat and matching suit, his once black hair going the salt and pepper route. Captian Trips, otherwise known as Isaiah Selwyn, was called uncle by the Finnagan kids, but he was actually Ma Finnagan's cousin. From the welsh side of the family. Looked it, too. Black hair, striking blue eyes and skin as pale white as mine. I don't think it's possible for that man to get a tan. At all. He'll glow in the dark even if you locked him in a tanning bed for a whole day. Trips took me under his wing, so to speak, after my...mess...the Corps got me into. Introduced me to the Finnagan clan too.
He always said he would have dumped me into the nearest gutter, but Ozymandias wouldn't let him. Ozymandias, Ozzy for short, is the giant beast of a cat that he takes everywhere. Well, nearly everywhere. I don't think Trips can stop him, even if he wanted to. Strange ass cat. I've seen that cat stare down the size of...well...about six of me. Perhaps I exaggerate a bit, but just about the size part. Ozzy himself is a big Jiminy Cricket cat. Freakishly big. Dog sized, even. He has these evil yellow eyes that just bore right into you. When I was living with Trips I always locked my bedroom door when I went to sleep. Never was too sure that Ozzy wasn't plotting to kill me in my sleep. He always had that sort of look on his cat face. Both Sammy and Pete are a little scared of him. Ozzy's never done anything to Sammy, but every time he sees Pete...well...Pete tries to wear a cup when he hears Trips and Ozzy are in town. Ma's even threatened to shoot him if she sees him. Something about ruining her favorite fur coat.
Did I mention Ozzy can talk? Just 'hello' and 'no', but it's weird as hell.
"Isaiah Selwyn. It's been ages," I say as I push through the doors.
"That it has, darling girl. We were in town and the infernal beast insisted we pay you a visit."
"Is that so? Hey there, Ozzy."
"Helloooooooooo," the cat yowled, rolling over onto his back and stretching out. I just had to grin at that. Damned thing loves having his belly rubbed.
"Sammy? Why don't you go ahead and take off. I'll clean up tonight."
She shot me a grateful look, grabbed her purse and headed for the back. Bet I'll get all sorts of interesting questions tomorrow. Might as well make some coffee.
"So, Trips, you gonna tell me why you're really here or are you going to make me play twenty questions for the rest of the night?"
"We can't just pay family a visit?"
"A visit?" Oh, that's rich. "You just felt like crossing the pond to see Pete, Sammy and the chick your cousin practically adopted? Gonna hop on over to New York to see Ma Tommi too?"
"Is that so hard to believe?"
"Yes," I shoot back, hitting the start button on the coffeemaker and turning back to him. "Because Captain Trips doesn't just pay anyone a visit. I know that cat'll be puking in your shoes the first chance he gets for making him fly. I also know that Ma'll shoot him if she gets the chance."
"True enough."
"So what gives?"
"I thought I should come and see you."
"Quit dancin' around it, Trips. You ain't even english, so give up the proper gentleman crap."
"Since I am a gentleman, I won't take offence at you using the word 'english' in reference to myself," he said, smiling, "I honestly did come to see you. You're the only member of the family that actually likes Ozymandias."
"Meaning I'm the only one he likes."
"Oh, he's passing fond of Pete. Or at least fond of using his shins as a scratching post."
"NoooOOOOooooo."
"Hush, you. But really, Delilah, how are you?"
"Peachy with a side of keen, Cap. Couldn't be better."
"And this professional wrestling thing? Last time I talked to my gentle and mild cousin, she was raging on about sending the boys to Arkansas to teach a Phil and En Fuego a thing about feet and ball peen hammers."
"That sounds like Ma Finnagan alright." And it did. Anyone that says the famed Irish temper is just a stereotype has never met Tommi Finnagan.
"Good thing we ain't doing any shows in New York anytime soon. I may be a hard b*tch, but Ma makes me look like a friggin' nun when she gets goin'."
"I don't know about that. Tommi and I knew some rather vicious nuns when we were children."
"I don't doubt that."
Oh, there it is. I knew it was coming. The 'oh you silly little girl' smile. I hate that.
"I just wanted to make sure everything was going alright. Especially if it was the same Phillip Shane Abernathy that...."
"That may have ran in the same circles I once did and you still do? From what I understand, Philly's as erased as I am. Answer your question?"
"Answers it well enough. Now for another. Do you really believe this little blood feud will be settled in the ring?"
Now that's a good question, isn't it? I buy myself a little time to think by pouring us a couple of cups of coffee.
"Honestly? No. Philly and I will never be done. No settling. No truce, no peace treaty. Nothing. Unless we get sucked into Bizarro world, and then we'll be best of friends. There's only one way to finish it, and neither of us is that easy to kill."
"True enough."
"Now you're here because?"
"Like I said, I wanted to see an old friend."
Better not to push it. He'll just stick with that annoying little enigmatic grin until I hit him. Where do you think I get it from?
"Giving up already?"
"Better to plead the fifth. Leave a little mystery between us."
"There is very little mystery between us, Delilah."
"Bite me, Isaiah. Are you going to let Ozzy drink your coffee?"
"I rather enjoy having all my fingers, thank you. Now what about this Mikey fellow? Things going well with him?"
I tried to keep the silly grin off my face, but I couldn't.
"I see. That good. I'm happy for you."
"I don't even have words for it, Trips. Unfortunatly there's a little part of me that reminds myself how much of a train wreck my love life usually ends up turning into. Hopefully that won't happen with him."
"It didn't happen with us."
Now THAT came out of nowhere, didn't it?
"No, Trips, not really."
"We'll always have Paris, I suppose."
"No. What we'll have is a fishing boat named Paris, the Russian coast, and nearly starting world war three. Whatever happened to the Skipper anyway?"
"Fiji, last I heard. But alas, now that I've worn out our welcome, we should be going. Oz?"
"HellooOOoooooo."
I watch as Trips and Ozzy head for the door, wondering who was leading who.
"Trips?"
"Yes?"
The air seemed to grow heavy with the history between us.
"Don't be a stranger."
"I won't, darling girl. Keep safe."
And with that, he was out the door. I wonder what the real reason for coming was?
"It's safe, Sammy, they're gone."
"How did you know I was still here?"
"Never heard the back door open or shut."
"Oh."
She came up beside me, staring at the front door just like I was. The sound of the door closing behind Isaiah still hung in the air.
"So....world war three?"
I nodded, still watching the door.
"Short or long version?"
"Umm....short?"
"Short version would be that Trips and I were visiting a friend of his in Alaska. Owns some fishing boats up there. Called Freddy Merchant. Well we, along with one of his captains, all proceeded to get mind-boggling wasted and decided to take a little pleasure cruise. We all hop on Skipper's boat, Paris, and head off out to sea. After commiting various acts of piracy, we happened to run into a Russian sub. The Navy shows up, everyone is reaching for the big guns and we tell them all to fuck off and head for open waters."
I can feel Sammy's stare on the side of my head.
"You asked."
"Is that why you call him Captain Trips?
"No. I call him Captain Trips because he has two of everything Stephen King has ever written. That's why."
Yup. Still staring.
"I'm going home."
Soon after, the door closed behind her.
So. Here I am. I started out with a sleepless night and ended up with the desire to sleep for at least a year. Too much to think about now, though. Might as well take the coffee with me and hit the couch. Take my mind off of our little talk there. Try to ignore thoughts of beating Del Taco with a shovel and burying Philly boy in concrete.
Alive.
On top of that? Try like hell to ignore the big ass train that seems to be heading my way. Something just doesn't feel right. Yeah. Better to just hide out on the couch for a bit.
I turn around to walk to the end of the bar and slip a little bit. Looking down, I see a folded napkin at my feet. Just gotta be so damned mysterious, don'tcha Trips? Bet there's something written on it, too.
Mmm-hmm. The name of one big ass train.
Roland.
Irony, no? But is this the only thing coming? Is this the only reason why I feel like everything's about to get a whole bunch worse?
My luck? Probably not.
