NEW ARRIVAL :: AN UNDERCOVER COP, NERD, AND ALL AROUND DISASTER

[super_cool]

Freddy’s pretty sure he’s dead. He’d like to believe everything – the heist, the getaway, the bloodbath back at the rendezvous – was just a fucked up dream. He’d like to. There’s no hole in his cheek, no bullets in his gut, but he’s still wearing the same clothes – black suit, white shirt, and black tie – and they’re still soaked with blood. There’s blood in his hair, splattered across his face, and coating his hands.

He’s sitting on the curb outside of something that resembles the type of cheap convenience store familiar to someone from Los Angeles during the late 20th century. Next to him is an open bag of Doritos, four empty bottles of shitty beer, plus two more unopened bottles of that same shitty brand... and also a welcoming pamphlet.

While he’s not exactly feeling any better than he was when he first woke up, the alcohol is at least helping him settle into a sort of numbness. He opens the pamphlet and reads. Most of it fails to register.

‘Do you have a question for the Nexus?’ the pamphlet says.

‘What the fuck?’ is all that comes to mind. He sighs and rubs his temple, before burying his face in his arms. It's been a long goddamn day. Thinking it over though, he does actually have a question:

“Does everyone who dies get sent here? Or is it just like”–his voice still sounds hoarse, so he coughs into his fist and clears his throat–“only certain ones?”

He tries to brush his hair back, but his bangs just flop back into his face. He opens another bottle. Don't worry, he’s not going to cry or whine about shit. He may be a hot fucking mess, but he’s still a tough guy, okay?

Comments

[magnetite_plz]

The Nexus is a place for questions. Angel inclines her head, eyes wide and curious. Go ahead and ask. She seems amicable to helping Freddy however she can. Even moreso when he asks a question she knows the answer to.

It doesn't happen as often as she would like.

"No, not a god that I'm aware of. My contract binds me to Jesse the undead cowboy and Blaze the mechanical woman. Mistress Blaze and her small computer assistant Ghost refer to her kind as 'Exo's. I serve them whenever they call upon me. When I am not in their service I have leave to wander this Nexus as I will."

She gestures around them with arms spread wide. It is a strange thing to be allowed that kind of freedom and autonomy for her kind. She has grown to like it though.

"So it was I who helped you, in this case. Of my own will."

[super_cool]

“Oh,” he says. He’s not sure what to make of her answer. Coming from a society where everyone is ‘equal’ (at least in theory), it sounds like something shady and rather unfortunate, for her to be stuck serving a zombie cowboy or a robot lady. “Are they nice, at least?”

Despite his concern, he’s relieved she is not actually a servant of God, visibly relaxing. What she described sounds more like something from a TV show or movie – an odd but interesting one.

“Thank you, I really appreciate it.” If he were a person with any kind of sense, he’d think to ask her for help with finding a place to sleep that night, or maybe where he might be able get a change of clothes. But he is not, so he does not ask those things.

[magnetite_plz]

"They removed my bindings. Gave me clothing. Allowed me autonomy when they have no need of me. It is the kindest I have ever been treated."

Angel's kind are quite used to servitude of some form or another. Even in the realm of demons the rule of the land is to kill or be killed. Here is a much more peaceful place. Angel is very happy to call the Nexus home.

"Oh, but they do not like me to call them Master or Mistress. For some reason the titles are bothersome to them." The shrug she gives is genuinely confused. She is contracted to their service. That is what they are to her. But she does not say so in front of them. She has learned not to.

"May I ask you a query in turn?"

[super_cool]

“That’s good! They sound like really good people.”

He’s happy to hear they’ve also helped her, and like they don’t actually view her as a servant. They probably view her as a friend, which is also probably why the titles make them uncomfortable. Maybe they’re even some sort of odd found family? He likes that idea, and was about to ask her more, before she revealed that she's also got a question for him.

“Sure, go for it,” he says, although he’s a little wary of what she might ask. He's got baggage, needless to say.

[magnetite_plz]

She reaches down and tucks her skirt around her knees. Kneels down until she's closer to eye level with Freddy. She's still hovering above the ground but it gives her the illusion of having sat down across from him. Her gaze flits across the bloodied clothes he wears, concern etching it's way across her face.

"What sort of world did you come from?" Perhaps like some of the locals here he would not want to return to his own world. It may even be ill advised to, if he's considered deceased.

[super_cool]

Ah, that’s not such a bad question... He’s just doesn't know where to start.

“Well, for one thing, everyone’s a human. No aliens, or robots, or undead cowboys, or anything like that,” he laughs a little, still not used to thinking of those kind of beings as anything other than fiction. “No angels either, although some people like to think otherwise. How familiar are you with Earth?”

[magnetite_plz]

"My world is one that has a very permeable boundary with that of Earth. I spent many years in what you would call Sumaru, Japan. With many of my kind. The barrier between my world and Earth's was exceptionally weak at the time. It was easy to move between planes."

Why that was so is for someone other than Angel to answer. She does not hold those answers. As a low level demon she was concerned first and foremost with survival above anything else. Though she did enjoy watching humans, even back then.

[super_cool]

That makes it easier, then. “I lived there. Not Japan, but Earth. Los Angeles, which is in the United States. Year was 1992. Lots of cars, lots of pollution. People just living their daily lives, I guess. Me too. Not everyday was like... violent...”

He's biting his lip and staring down at the ground. Not because he died violently, although he did, but because he too was violent, and in fact has killed an innocent woman. It was an accident, but that makes no difference. That is just one of several really bad mistakes.

“I had a really good life,” he assures her. Good, of course, being relative, but yeah. All the same, there's no desire to return.

[magnetite_plz]

"And you may continue to have a good life here."

Angel reaches forward and brushes a bit of drying blood from Freddy's jacket. There may be a bit of warmth as though the sun had just broken through the clouds, but his clothing should be more clean when the light fades. She retracts her hand either way and glances down at the flaking blood on her fingers before looking to Freddy again.

"You do not need to return to that place that would have you deceased. You may remain here. You're not dead here."

[Feel free to have Angel's magics not work or be very limited on altering his state of dress if you'd prefer to leave him roughed up looking!]

[super_cool]

Her touch feels nice, comforting. Like the warmth of a carefree summer afternoon spent smoking good weed and hanging out with a friend, listening to K-Billy’s Super Sounds. His eyes drift shut, and when he opens them, there’s a dry, clean patch around the place where she touched on a jacket that’s otherwise still a mess, though it's noticeably better than before. He’s never seen magic before, but it doesn’t catch him off guard. She is floating, after all. “Thank you,” he says. She is very kind, but her words don’t make him feel any better.

“Yeah, but Angel, some people are dead,” he sighs. “A lot of people. Good people. Bad people. People who”--he looks like he wants to say more, but instead shakes his head, and when he continues it’s with an even and unemotional voice. “I fucked up really bad. I did something wrong, even though I knew it was wrong, and everything went to shit. I know everyone makes mistakes, but don’t you think it’s pretty messed up I get to sit here and get drunk, while they’re... I dunno. Dead?”

It sounds self-pitying, and it is, but he’s actually just trying to level with her and let her know. Shit’s real fucked up.

[[Thank you! I made it limited just because someone brought him a change of clothes in another thread. ^^]]

[magnetite_plz]

"May I ask another query of you?"

Angel waits patiently for him to give an assent before she glances out at the street they're sitting across from.

"Why did you choose to do what you knew was wrong?"

She doesn't sound accusatory in her questions, though it's difficult to tell. Her emotions are subtle ones. It would be very easy to assume her same disinterested monotone was nothing more than an artificial intelligence playing at humanity. But Angel does have the capacity to feel, even if those feelings often confuse her.

"I cannot give my opinion without sufficient data."

Acting on those emotions is still a work in progress, admittedly.

[super_cool]

Since Angel has demonstrated only a desire to help, her emotionless monotone doesn’t really bother him. It actually makes her seem interesting and cool, like she’s real deep. He respects that. He takes a moment to think about her question, but doesn’t have an answer.

“I don’t know.” He’s ill-prepared for such a conversation, having not had enough time to fully process everything. Although he obviously has thought about it some before, he never reached any definite conclusions, and at the time, he was unreflective in a way that seems shocking to him now. “Guess I wasn’t really thinking...”

That, of course, seems to contradict what he said earlier about knowing it was wrong. Humans can be such frustrating transmitters of data when it comes to their own psychologies. He looks away, taking a drag from his cigarette, and mumbling something about being unprofessional.

[magnetite_plz]

She inclines her head slightly. Freddy seems distraught and confused about his own actions. Angel has seen the chaotic and sometimes contradictory hearts of Man before. But as an arbiter under the arcana of Justice Angel has some beliefs of her own.

Especially after seeing the camaraderie of Man here in this place.

"You were in pain. You were dying. I should think...having to live through what is ordinarily a permanent end to Man's fates...would be punishment enough. I have no way of knowing the Sins you may have done in life. But you do not seem like a cruel hearted man. Misguided, perhaps. Lost. "

[super_cool]

Seeing camaraderie of Man in the Nexus may have changed Angel’s beliefs, but in twentieth century LA pretty much everyone is terrible – cops and robbers alike, Freddy included, though she’s right he’s not actually malicious.

“I always had good intentions.” Although he’s certain some of his actions actually are inexcusable, she’s right. She has no way of knowing.

He’s still a little disoriented, unclear whether she’s actually a superior being or just a person who happens to have wings and special powers. He shifts, unsure of what to say. So he just says, “Sorry, I don’t mean to keep you if you’ve got stuff to do. I’ll be alright.”

[magnetite_plz]

"My actions are not dictated for me at this time. But you need to rest and regain your strength. Welcome to the Nexus, Freddy Newendyke. May your time here be better than your past."

Angel is careful when she gets up off of the nonexistent ground she'd been sitting on and stretches her wings again. There are many in the Nexus coming and going who are Lost and in pain.

Plenty to keep a demon of justice busy, that is to say.

"Though we are not bound by contract, if you call for me, I will come if I am able."