February 26, Change Year 8
Cook's Haven, West Coast of North America
The settlement was clean, and the tavern wasn't at all difficult to locate. A few of the people within seemed skittish, some of them dressed in patchy clothes as they sat in their chairs by the glow of several lanterns upon the couple dozen patrons huddled inside. There was a different kind of air of ease that hung over this place compared to others, even in the frigid cold.
Aves found that it was easy to earn hot meals by flashing a pack of cigarettes at the folks who seemed to have the best-quality food in front of them. Even if one didn't partake, it was smart to trade those little things for more valuable items; brandishing them inside old Zip-Loc bags was a nice added touch for tacking on that extra value. If someone was a harder sell, or still possessed an Old-World attitude about tobacco, she'd opt to pull out a small plastic bottle of salt; she had plenty more back on the Star, but no one else had to know that besides her. Sometimes people wouldn't ask for anything; on those rare occasions they were mostly those elusive people who got more of a kick out of helping others than saving more food for themselves. Those with darker intentions were easy to pick up on and easy to avoid. She'd learned a few lessons the hard way enough to know how to look out for herself.
Either way, Aves typically didn't starve. Not even this evening, when she found herself perched with a bowl of lamb stew, loaded with carrots, potatoes, and onions while nursing a muscle pulled in the small of her back after she had unexpectedly slipped on the deck of the Star two mornings prior. The soup really wasn't bad when she considered that the creature had been slaughtered just hours prior, according to the barkeep, evidenced by the rickety shed not far from the property with the dark stains near the stamped footmat at the door.
The barkeep puffed happily on an old Lucky Strike as she finished peppering the small woman with easy small talk. Aves didn't mind; it was frigid, icy, and slick outside, an impossibly cold front having set in over the coastline. There were times when she didn't like to talk to a single soul, but tonight she was fine with listening to the blonde woman who rattled on about how Christmas had progressed in the little settlement they called "Cook's Haven," how there were three babies who'd survived past three months in the last year, how there hadn't been any hostile incursions in over eighteen months, and even how for the most part things were actually "fairly decent 'round here." Cook's Haven; "haven," indeed. Aves smiled to herself behind her sip of pear ale; for being frozen in, she could have done a lot worse in picking a spot to land. Some towns were dismal, indeed, and it was easiest to tell by the barkeeps... After all, they tended to hear and absorb the weight of the depths of despair in all communities that didn't forbid the consumption of alcohol. They saw what others hoped to shield from their neighbors and were often themselves pining for their own safe and secure third party to levy their own fears upon. But not this one, who seemed so confident and okay for anyone Aves had met since The Happening that she didn't even mention her own name. The quiet woman took it as a good sign and listened earnestly, pleased to be met by the positive approach. Soon it became clear to Aves who the locals were versus the travelers like herself; those skittish, uneasy ones were similar to her, without shelter for some time, waiting for bad news to come around the corner at any time. The locals seemed far calmer by comparison... designating Cook's Haven fairly early as a success in Aves' mind.
The barkeep finally excused herself to peel off to check in with another group that wandered its way into the establishment from the cold, but no sooner had the woman left than had a different figure swooped in to set upon the chair across from her, taking the place of the bubbly barkeep. "Buy you dinner?" A set of white teeth flashed at her charmingly.
Aves frowned, then punctuated it with a laugh. "I'm good, thanks," she responded in an attempt to be polite, as to not invite any conflict or confrontation. She didn't owe anyone politeness, but it often proved to be an excellent insurance policy against trouble. And for times when it backfired, there was always the knife in her boot.
The stranger was handsome, she noticed, as he held up his hands up in the air and backed up a little, smiling good-naturedly. "Aww, sorry," he professed genuinely, "I perhaps came on a bit strong. I always forget people who aren't from here aren't used to that." He degloved a hand and offered it to her, continuing to sheepishly grin at her. "I'm Anthony."
"Avery," she carved out warily, still playing cautiously. Even what could seem like the nicest person could have just been some layered predatory act. With no one on earth that she knew of who could mourn her death, the idea of going at the hands of a stranger just seemed so... anti-climactic.
"Fancy. Someone could write a song about the two of us, yeah?" he chattered on with a glimmer in his massive blue eyes. "One day just across this way / A tale we love still told today / Do you doubt or do you believe / that there's the spot of where they'd meet / the Fabled Pair, of which I speak / of Avery and Anthony!" he sang effortlessly, warmly, easily.
Aves' jaw hung open slightly in disbelief. Having been someone who'd once relied on her ability to think on her feet quickly, she easily found impromptu performances to be amusing, and nearly quite winning and creative.
"Anthony's our local bard," the blonde's voice piped blandly behind Aves' head, moving along in stereo motion behind Aves' head before volunteering a cloth napkin next to her right hand.
A bard. Seriously?
"Hello, Joy," he responded genially. Aves could hear her huff and storm back to her station. Whatever that was about... "I guess she's right. Sort of."
"'Bard,' huh?" Aves rolled flatly and cautiously as she quirked an eyebrow.
"I used to be in a band before all this happened. I found out quickly that people still liked music after everything went down. Every night I'm in here playing to keep a spot at the hostel, and during the day I usually go help out at the quarry or something." He took a sip from the mug in his huge hand. "Went to the clinic, eh?"
Aves' face immediately darkened. "Word travels fast around here, doesn't it?"
Anthony took another sip and raised a hand again. "Relax. I also do shifts there sometimes. Says you sprained something in your back. They said they'd track you down and get you a remedy." Aves paused and nodded slowly. Anthony flashed his smile again and pulled a small package from his the lefthand pocket of his tan raincoat. "Tea. You dropped a pound of black tea as part of your entrance fee into the village. That sewing machine made our elders incredibly happy; the least we could do was give you a remedy. Some of the black tea's in it. It's also got... Lu Cha, Ren Shen, Jiao Gu Lan, and Gan Cao. Got it written down on the inside, too. Want a cup?"
Aves glanced up at the man's clear eyes, then looked over her shoulder back at the woman whose name turned out to be Joy, who no doubt was overhearing the conversation. And what was there to hide? Joy rolled her eyes but nodded, clearing Anthony as someone who wasn't likely to have harmful intentions. She craned herself back to focus on the man across from her, and reluctantly accepted the package. "Thank you," she attempted at an offer to demonstrate any kind of gratefulness from behind her apprehensive exterior. She dropped the package in her bag; her back was indeed still sore. "I appreciate that."
"Of course! But can I make you a cup?" He jostled his head toward the landing up above with doorways lining the walls. Aves shook her head confidently, but not exasperatedly. It wasn't uncommon for people to be so bold in these times. "Well, it was worth a shot," he laughed, "but how about if I make you one and keep you company? You don't even have to get up."
"Do I have a choice?" Aves observed somewhat dryly. Anthony half-grated on her, and half-ignited some desire to seek something of a deviation off the normal routine, as something of a quirkier, more outgoing personality than what she was accustomed to encountering. Conversation with people like this was always a source of great, authentic fun to be had.
Anthony smiled and motioned his hand to collect the package, then held it up in the air and pointed at it for Joy to see before he opened up the brown paper packaging with a small pocketknife. Joy's swift attention produced a cup of tea quickly, wherein he scooped a set of leaves into the piping hot water. "Let it sit for several minutes. Then let it cool down. Then drink it and head off to sleep."
She nodded and watched the leaves soak into the tea. There didn't seem to be any reason to doubt his word, but even then, what choice did she have but to drink? He was much bigger than she was. And there was only one of her, and who knew how many of them... a scary prospect, but she'd have to trust, all the same. She watched the dark liquid begin to cloud into the clear water. "Thank you." She wrapped her hands around the warm mug and let herself smiled a little as she felt the warm porcelain unthaw her cold fingers. "This will make a difference."
"How did you manage to hurt yourself?" he asked curiously.
She couldn't help but crack a smile. "I slipped on the deck of my boat."
"Were you by yourself?" She nodded. He balked. "That must have been awful."
She shrugged a little. "It was scary, I guess." She paused a moment. "I was fine that day. I didn't think anything of it. It was the next morning that was scary... I woke up having a nightmare that my boat was untethered."
"That does sound like a nightmare," he said partly teasingly as he settled his chin into the palm of his hand in a demonstration of attentiveness.
Aves rolled her eyes. "You're such a pal," she threw out with a rueful smile.
"There, there's a personality! I found it!" he declared dramatically, batting his eyelashes playfully at her. "But why do you even travel by yourself? I can tell you're American."
"Like that means anything."
"You're still not from around here."
"How can you tell?"
"That accent of yours."
"I didn't notice yours."
"That's because mine is like everyone else's," he laughed. "But yours isn't. So why're you all the way up here?"
She shrugged. "Well, I came all the way down here--"
"Oh, you're from up north!" She nodded. "That's a long way down, Avery." She shrugged. "That's really a long way away."
She blinked at him. "What does that mean?"
"Well." He sighed, heaving a heavy breath into his broad chest and settling back into his chair. "If you'll pardon me. Most women stick to what they know nowadays. Most women aren't running boats and delivering sewing machines to places they visit for the first time. Forgive me, but that's the truth. And here you are, running your own boat, delivering a sewing machine to a place you've never been before. And I've been here a while and would know if I'd seen you before." He laughed. "You've either got no desire for stability, or you're running away from something."
Aves tilted her head and smiled crookedly. "What a thing to say to someone you just met," she observed again in a dry, placid tone.
He laughed again. "Forgive me. But I see thing sometimes. You're one of those people who sees things, too." He nodded. "You've lost many people. Those far away from you and close to you. Even your family, the one you created after The Happening."
Something created a buzzing sound in Aves' ears. The rest of the room seemed to tune out and freeze around them. She hadn't drank the tea at all, nor had he tampered with her soup. There was no chance of having been poisoned that she could detect... there was something else going on. More than what she could explain at the moment.
Anthony had The Gift, too.
Aves sighed. "It's true." She was glad that the faces around them were suspended in mid-action, incapable of hearing them. It was very rarely that these things ever took place... but they did, every once in a long, long while, ever since The Happening. "I left Juneau in the beginning, with a group. Including an elderly woman who was my neighbor... we ended up all traveling together, making our way to Ketchikan. The voyage was dangerous." She sighed slowly as she realized fully that she'd never recanted the story aloud to a single soul. But since Anthony could even engage in a conversation on this level, she knew for sure... she knew she could say it. "The voyage was dangerous," she continued after a tic, "but we eventually made it. The elderly woman insisted we go down to Ketchikan, to where her grandson lived. I ended up marrying him, and the woman became the closest thing I had to a mother, a grandmother, anything like that. And he, well... well, he understood me. I never had anythig to be afraid of with him... never feared starving. Never feared him beating me. Never feared him losing our home. And when we had our son, well... he wasn't afraid of anything in the world except the possibility of losing us after that."
The man across from her nodded. "The end of the world created a new world for you."
"And then it was dashed away."
Suddenly the world's hues flooded back with tones of yellows and reds and oranges as the tavern skittered back into motion around them. Something in the environment disrupted the conversation. Perhaps it was the look of sadness that etched acrossp Anthony's face as his face fell. "I'm sorry," he murmured, almost as though he'd realized that perhaps the story was perhaps sadder than he'd anticipated.
Aves shrugged and smiled dolefully at the self-proclaimed bard. "It's not your fault," she offered generically, unsure quite of what else to respond with.
Anthony's eyes blinked at her before he folded his shoulder toward themselves and lengthened his elbows, planting them on the table to lean forward to speak quietly. "You're running away from Ketchikan because they're gone and there's no going on in that place."
She sighed and gave the teensiest of nods before she began to sip at the darkened brew before her. The concoction was sweet, easy, and lacked any trace of berries or whatever could be used as a poison that was within easy local reach. Perhaps he wasn't up to anything nefarious. "That's a story I can't tell here."
He smiled at her and leaned closer. "I know your story. So few of us have The Gift, and I know you know it when you see it."
She wrinkled her nose at him. "How can you know?" she whispered creakily.
"When you've had the chance to learn, to understand how it works," he answered easily. "It doesn't happen when you're off on a boat. It happens when you're around others like you."
Joy passed by behind Anthony, smiling warmly at Aves as she balanced a wooden tray in her hand to sport three tall dark glasses of beer to a few other patrons. The room seemed to darken as her green eye winked at her before turning back to her task at hand.
Suddenly, it clicked.
People with The Gift were common in Cook's Haven.
She nodded. "I can't stay anywhere for too long," she admitted somewhat hypnotically. The truth was, she relished the opportunity to be brazenly honest for a change.
"I know. I don't blame you."
"But I want to."
"Stay in one place?"
"Yes." She smiled a little. "Really. I'd love to stay in one place. One spot to call home."
Anthony nodded, and leaned back just slightly enough to stare into her eyes intently for several seconds, then returned to his position. "Here's not it."
"I know it's not... but, where is it?" she asked curiously. After a long tic, she widened her eyes fearfully. "Will I ever find out?" she ventured cautiously.
"You'll know it when you find it."
She hadn't realized that the world had slowed down again. The bar was filling up faster as the night waned on. Aves slammed her tea quickly and ignored the strain in her lower back as she adjusted to the quickening conditions of the world around her. "I suppose I will," she said as she eased herself up.
Anthony rushed to his feet in an attempt to assist her, then fixed his expression back to a charming visage. Once again, he was as he wanted the world to perceive him. "It's cold out there, Avery," he chirped with a curious expression.
She smiled warmly and sighed back at him. "Thank you for the tea," she responded formally, but not coldly, as she pushed the mug ahead and nodded a good-bye to him, meandering through the crowd and to her room, locking the door behind herself before crawling onto a surprisingly comfortable mattress and casting into a deep, deep sleep.