The collection of musings here aren't written down. They aren't recorded or committed to video. They are nothing more than Blaire Winchester's moments of solitude. Solitude to pay someone dear to her the time they deserve. Blaire had found a quiet place to rest after a long hike through the camp woods within the middle of the night. A large tree with a flat faced rock beneath, the perfect place to sit. With a couple glasses in hand & a bottle of cherry schnapps, she parked herself down cross legged upon that very rock alone -- and poured up a couple glasses. One, she held in her cybernetic hand -- and the other she laid a foot or so away on the stone. She reached into her pocket, and pulled out a bracelet. One of flamboyant charms and beads. Colorful. It found it's home placed adjacent to that glass ahead of her ... and then, Blaire leaned back. Her eyes wandered toward the treeline to pay the stars her full focus. The silence rolled on. Nothing more than a few nursing sips of that sour sweet liquor passing her lips. "I think things are goin' okay." Blaire finally spoke out loud to no one. "You already know 'bout how I got pushed outta' the Spur by the collapse. Told you 'bout the camp. How stressful it is. -- But it's better now. Things are gettin' easier. The people are getting comfy with each other. Everyone is startin' to work together. Lil' grind here n' there, but whatta' ya' expect? -- They all lost their homes, or worse. I ain't gonna ride their asses for it f' I don't gotta'." Blaire took another sip of her drink -- a gentle grimace on her face a clear sign that she didn't exactly enjoy the taste. "I don't know why you ever liked this stuff. Way too fuckin' sweet. -- So, uh. Yeh. The camp's good. I feel good. It feels ... right. To be helpin' out like this. I don't know why I always end up leadin' the charge, though. I hate the responsibility. You know that. Guess I just don't trust anyone else to not fuck up -- or maybe I just talk too loud. ... But whatever. It helps, you know? It's keepin' my head clear a' things. Keepin' me on the right path. ... Speakin' a' that. I ... I fixed things, I think. Ya' know, few years back -- how I said I ... ya'. You know. I didn't think I'd ever make it up to 'em. -- Hell, maybe I 'aven't." Her eyes drifted from the sky, and fell slightly softened to the bracelet by that untouched drink. "But there's hope for it now. Hope to get over it. Maybe I can wipe it clean with a little more work. You would'a wanted that." The night dragged on. Blaire found nothing more to say to the wind. -- And once she finished her drink, she sighed. Her human hand reached over to gently grasp the untouched glass and pour it slowly to the grass at her feet. "Drink up, Sammy. -- Night." She returned the cap to the bottle of cherry schnaps, and towered the two empty glasses together. She paid that bracelet one final glance in her open palm -- then squeezed it tight and stuffed it back to her pocket. ... And then she set off on her hike back to camp.
The door shut. It's hinges creaked and groaned, rust grinding rust until the latch clacked into place and the gurgling of the river down the way was muffled behind the oak. Tyrell had left -- and Blaire stood in silence, standing stern and standing tall at the foot of her bed -- a bed now occupied by the sedated form of a friend. A friend with a broken jaw and a bloodied face, handcuffed to the posts by an ankle and wrist. All that lit her room was the flickering oil lantern hooked to the wooden supports above. A room little more than a fancily dressed up cave. Blaire tightened her crossed arms, squeezing herself uncomfortably whilst her eyes couldn't part from the sight of that beaten ape girl. A frosted over guilt laid within her stern blanketed expression ... and she retreated toward the couch a few steps behind. She grabbed the bottle of cherry schnaps tucked safely beneath changes of clothing packed down in the filing cabinet side table, and eased her ass into the tattered cushion. The woman tried to calm the stress of what came before with a few deep breaths, but it just didn't seem to help. Her human hand came up through her bangs and flung that black cap upon her head backward, letting it tumble slowly down her neck and plop on the hind of the couch. Blaire brought that bottle to her lips, and nursed a sip whilst turqoise fell back onto Lyrica. "What the fuck, Sam. -- What the fuck. Were you watchin' all of that? -- I -- Christ, sis. I don't know what the fuck to do." The woman brought her terran hand up behind her head, black nailed fingers scritching and rolling through the slightly sweat laden hair at the rear of her scalp. The servos in her cybernetic hummed, and she shifted the bottle back to her lips for another sip. A sip that seemed far from intent on drinking -- and more aimed towards connection. "This kid. She's so fuckin' young. Was all this too much for 'er? -- Did I ask too much a' her, you think? -- Fuck. I just -- I just thought s'what she wanted. I thought she 'ad experience dealin' with the stress a' the life. I didn't -- I didn't think she'd crack like this, Sammy. ... I don't even know where it came from. I -- Was she talkin' outta' the crazy? Or was she bein' serious? Was that really 'er in there? -- Did I really snap 'er head like a melon just for spendin' time with Josh?" She always seemed to pause. Pause as if someone else would carry the conversation. "... I'm not just gonna -- like, stop seein' him. I -- Why the hell does the kid think she /loves/ me? -- I've saved plenty a' fuckin' peoples lives, Sam -- They never ended up like this. This isn't 'ow it's supposed to go. You're not supposed to 'ave to beat down the one's you save. They're supposed to be the ones that remind you you're doin' it right. -- But -- How can I be doin' right if -- ... " Blaire shut her eyes and dropped her head backward, tilting the cherry flavoured liquor sky high to guzzle down a mouthful. " ... Maybe it's just a fluke. Maybe she was unstable 'fore I saved her. Yeh. -- She's a furball, after all. Probably 'as that whole 'knog shit n' her head. ... I'm just glad I 'ave all these people around to help. It's nice -- you were right. It's better to make friends, 'stead 'a snappin' off at every fucker I see. -- I don't think I could keep the camp together f' I was dealin' alone. -- Maybe I ain't even the best fit in the first place." Blaire went quiet, her furrowed, reflective gaze glazing down to her lap. After a drawn out moment of thought, she shuffled up from her seat and walked to the door -- taking a step out upon the porch. She stretched out her robotic arm and slowly tilted the bottle neck down -- a trickle of that liquor pouring upon the wood. "Goodnight."
Blaire brought her Yellowjacket MKII to a slow halt atop the dirt crackled concrete skirting along the barren reaches of Upside savannah. It's treads thumped softly to the ground, and the shrill of whirling mechanicals smoothly drifted silent. The night was crisp and cool, stars tangled above in a sea of nebula swirled obsidian. A calm, quiet night as any. The perfect place to relax. The cockpit hissed open, and within a moment her robotic carbon plated hand had cranked out the key from the ignition and slapped atop the padded ledge. With that bottle of cherry schnapps in hand, Blaire vaulted over onto the jet black wing where her boots dropped heavy. A blip of her keys, and the cockpit closed -- making the perfect place to seat herself cross legged and comfortable. Blaire locked her eyes on high, the starlight refracting in her turquoise iris past her sternly stark expression. An idle hand snuck into her pocket, and gently accessorized the neck of the bottle she held with a familiar flamboyant charm bracelet. The trinkets clinked upon glass, and the cap of that bottle found itself popped off into her palm. "Nice night, huh Sammy." Blaire brought the bottle to her lips, but let it linger for a stalled minute. Captivated. She eventually drifted backward, flopping down over the flat top of her fighter with her terran arm cushioning her head behind. With a quick swig, the woman spoke up again to the air. "I think I'm a magnet for trouble, sis. Doesn't seem to matter what I do or where I go. There's just -- /always/ fighting. Always. ... I'm not sayin' I can't handle it. I can. You know I can. I just wish I didn't always get others caught up in my shit." Blaire downed another swig, a soft sigh rolling off her bead pierced tongue. " ... Couple nights ago, the camp was hit. Group was organized, too. They weren't just your run-a-the-mill meth addicted raiders lookin' for a quick score. They 'ad some organization. Could tell by the get ups alone. Fuck f' they ain't the stupidest motherfuckers I've seen n' forever, though. We got off lucky. Few injuries, but ... none dead on our end. I did what I could, Sam. I -- I saved people, right? They probably woulda' raped n' fuckin' burned our camp to the ground f' I surrendered up front. ... I don't know. I mighta' fucked up though, Sammy. I ... I fucked 'em from eh to zed n' they started runnin' like rabbits. -- Watchin' 'em piss their pants like that, fleein' for their lives. I -- I couldn't finish 'em off. I couldn't. M' I gettin' soft, sis? What the fuck m' I gonna do f' they come back with a blood lust? That's on me -- All of it. All of these fuckin' people lookin' up to me. Comin' to me every second of this fuckin' day. Blaze this, Blaze that, Blaze should I, Blaze what do you want me to do. -- They look to me like some sort a' leader like I /know/ what the fuck to do. I'm just some bitch who's been around the block, Sammy. I know how to take care a' myself n' burn a tribe a' plants to the ground -- But every time I end up in control a' /people/. Every fuckin' time -- I fuck it up." Her voice wavered. A subtle shudder of despair and woe. Blaire tossed back another hefty gulp of that bright red, sickly sweet liquor. "I'm just tryin' to find someone. Find someone better suited to lead 'em 'fore I end up gettin' everyone torched. I don't wanna let these people down, Sam. ... God, I wish I 'ad your energy right about now." The wind crept in. Silence overtaking the starlit scene whilst her eyes wandered about the skies. The clouds creeping from end to end. The flicker of vessels and satellites orbiting overhead. One minute became ten, which then became thirty. " ... N' here I am on the sidelines. Trying to juggle a whole fuckin' camp of people who need my help, and some dumb jarhead. The hell s' wrong with me, sis. I've got -- I've got more important things on my plate, n' here I am ... thinkin' about /him/. I've stitched my own gut back together, pulled bullets from my skin n' yanked my own snapped bones back into place. I've been knee fuckin' deep n' the jungle surrounded by flesh eating fuckin' plants -- N' here I am. Scared to go knock on his door again." A sharp huff escaped her nostrils, and her brow furrowed deeply. A irritated, concerned expression glazing up upon the moon. "The... the fuck do I care, anyway. We're just -- we're still just some casual fling. Stress relief, n' all that. ... I just didn't know he could cry like that. ... I didn't know he thought so low of himself. Thought he was just some ... hard ass arrogant prick. Hot, but -- A prick. ... I guess I just don't want to seem like a clingy stalker. Maybe buggin' him everyday doesn't help. -- You were always so much fuckin' better with the whole /guy/ thing. Never over thinkin' it. Just -- smilin' away. A little chubby ass ball of sunshine." Blaire went quiet, her lips curling into a warm, nostalgic smile. A faint shimmer flickered in those black lined turquoise eyes of hers. A shimmer that sparkled with the reflecting starlight. She shut her eyes and brought her terran thumb up to wipe away the tears that tried to escape her lashes -- they didn't get very far. "I miss you, Sammy."
A quiet night like any other, and Blaire had made her way to the privacy of the woods yet again. The same flat faced rock from before -- the same slightly east skewed tree trunk from before. The same twinkling nebula from before. Light poured in ribbons through the wind shifting red leaf canopy, leaving oblong spotlights scattering over the grass and stone. The woman sat in silence for several tiresome minutes. Her face bore the weight of a days work tenfold. She needed time to recuperate. She nursed a fresh new bottle of cherry schnapps in boredom -- merely to pass the time and quench her thirst. Eventually, nearly 20 minutes after she arrived to dwell in isolation ... she spoke. "L hates me now. Sure I told you about her ... the red head. The one who doesn't even notice the hole n' the bottom of her bag 'a marbles. ... She was an alright chick. Didn't talk to 'er much, but, hell -- She was near the top a' my list for people worth a damn. -- but I 'ad to lay in on her. Knock her down a peg and make sure she wasn't gonna hurt anyone else. I fuckin' hate havin' to be responsible for every little fuckin' problem that 'appens around here, Sam. -- Boo fuckin' hoo, you got shot - " Her tone mumbled mockingly, hands jazzing lazily in the air before flopping back atop her lap. "He wasn't /dying/, so why do I gotta lose shit over it. -- Whatever. I ... I don't know, man. I thought she woulda' understood it wasn't personal. I -- I just 'ave to take care of everyone, you know? ... I /have/ to. -- But now she thinks I'm a fuckin' german dictator or somethin', out to make her my ass slave..." She craned her head back, her blue tinted hair bumping into the rough bark surface behind her whilst her eyes trailed toward the stars. The bottle lingered in her grasp below her lip -- daring to wait just a moment before she knocked back another swig. " ... N' Josh 'asn't been around. I saw 'em the second night I slept over -- but he didn't say much 'en, either. Maybe he's embarrassed 'bout openin' up to me. ... Maybe he's startin' to feel ashamed to talk to me after everythin'. ... I guess I can't blame 'em. ... I just wish he'd say so. Tell me straight up -- Hell, break my jaw f' he's gotta. I -- I hate foolin' myself into thinkin' there's a chance of anythin' special there. He won't even answer his door any more." Blaire shut her eyes, her terran hand rising to rest over her brow and knead away the embarrassment she felt swirling in her head. "God, I'm so fucking stupid. So -- Fucking stupid." Frustration hissed through her teeth, and she sat in silence for the rest of the hour to come.
Blaire was casually relaxing in her cave dug bedroom -- soothed by the flicker of lantern light and soft rock ambience humming through her cybernetic's radio. With nothing much to do in her boredom, she cast her eyes toward the ceiling and drifted off into thought. An inner voice projected to the sky -- in hopes her sister could still hear her. "I'm gettin' too tired for this, Sam. Hangin' 'round the camp, doin' work twenty four seven. I hardly 'ave a chance to relax any more. Feel like my eyes are screamin' at me to sleep every bloody second." She sighed, shutting those very eyes and rubbing the fatigue away with her terran hand. "Things are feelin' slow n' sketchy without our income. The hauler is almost fixed up -- but fuck, it couldn't be goin' any slower. I feel like the camp is just a sittin' dick waitin' for those bastards n' red to hop on down n' fuck us down the throat while we're crippled. We need more defences -- n' maybe some actual shelter. Sorta gettin' sick a' 'avin' no TV, to be honest. N' I could use a private bathroom. ... I think Josh 'n I are done-zo. Well, whatever we 'ad anyway. I ain't naive or stupid -- I can take a hint. So -- whatever, right? It ... it ain't a big deal. I wasn't letting my expectations build up much, anyway. Fuck -- " She furrowed her brow, glaring idly in silence to the tarp ceiling above. "For all the crap I am, at least I'm /reliable/. -- Right? ... So fuck it. I'll find a sleazy club n' try to find someone to pass the night on with. The knot n' my neck is killing me. Sure I can score a shoulder massage f' I put out. ... - Oh, n' I think Lore s'okay with me now. Maybe. Can't say for sure. -- She wasn't actin' like a PMS'in thirteen year old, at least. So that's good news, eh? Maybe I should take her to the club /with/ me. Wouldn't kill her to de-stress a lil' bit."
The rain assaulted the trees above, pattering amongst the leaves whilst a chilled wind rustled and whistled through the scratching swaying branches. The moon and nebula above shined, like a floodlight basking the ground beneath in a rich, cerulean sheen. Damp leaves crunched and crinkled beneath the approaching footsteps. Someone shambling exhaustively through the wood. Wet, slopping splurting squirting from the woman's water drenched boots with every step she took. Mud caked her denim to the point which little fabric peaked through from below her knees, with smears and strokes of excess coating her from head to toe. Blaire gazed drearily forward, a vacant stare of fatigue and self reflection leaving her iris empty. Her hair was a scattered mess of soaking, dripping clumps. Her heavy layered mascara, eyeliner and eye shadow oozing down her cheeks to paint her face like a ghoul. She didn't have her bottle of cherry schnapps today. Today, she carried her tequila. A half empty bottle pinched by its neck and sagging from her limp swaying arms. The woman trudged through the muck and underbrush of the woods without care, like a shifting zombie with little dexterity upon their own feet. Thumping into trunks, stumbling over rocks. The camp was far behind her -- she knew no one would be out this far. All to be heard was the sound of her own panting breath, and the distant chitting and croaning of insect & amphibious fauna. Her sludged boots came to a staggered halt, her body swaying tipsily whilst she glared absently into the clearing ahead of her. The expression on her face so bitter, so irritable and annoyed. A ferocious, haphazard scowl that seemed hell bent on taking it out on the world. Until she began to shift. Her drunken intoxicated balance buckling left and right as her footing stumbled around. The floor, the trees. It was all spinning. Disorienting. Her hate filled expression, a veil of confidence and resilient composure -- softened and sunk into distraught pain. A frown curled her lips, her vacant eyes beginning to glaze and well up with sparkling wetness. Blaire took in a soft, shuddering breath of crisp night air -- her chest shivering as it struggled to fight away the horrible wrenching that she felt pummelling her gut from within. She couldn't hold back anymore. -- And now, with all the distance between her and any spectators ... she didn't have to. The woman's mud & runny makeup soiled face contorted and grimaced in a torturous inner agony. Distress and morbid woe forcing her tear flooding eyes to sliver and clench. Blaire hissed and wheezed. The emotional crumbling giving her no control over her sudden sporadic, short bursts of panting breaths. Exhausted, both mentally and physically, she collapsed to her knees into the leaves below her -- then toppled to her side, a gooey splort of mud splattering over her ground faced side. The woman curled her knees up and brought that cold glass bottle to her chest, mixmatch arms winding around it as her entire body embraced it like a child with a teddy bear. She snivelled and sobbed, rivulets of tears streaming generously down her face and mixing with the cold rain sprinkling from on high. Her body quivered and shook. For several minutes -- maybe even an hour. All she could do was cry and grovel. "I-I can't do this anymore, Sam. I can't /do/ this -- I can't, I can't, -- I can't live like this anymore." She clawed into the bottle of liquor she clung to so desperately, her knees pulling closer to her chest. Left in the fetal position upon her side in the mud. "I miss you so bad, I can't be alone -- I don't wanna be alone, Sammy -- I need you, I-I fuck-fuckin', /need/ you. How am I supposed to keep going like this without you here. How am I sup-supposed to laugh n' smile around people knowin' you're gone. I don't want to be alone anymore, I don't -- I don't want to be alone! Th-That's all I fuckin' ask -- I /deserve/ that much, don't I? I ain't lookin' fo-for money or fame or power, I just -- " Her already shakily distraught voice trembled, a croak of squabbling sorrow crackling her rant and halting her words in their tracks. She clenched her eyes tight and swallowed the dry knot that felt like it was swollen in her throat -- and soothed her frantic hysterics with a single, morose breath in -- and out. "Please ... Pl-please ... come back. Just come back. Co- ... come back. Come back to me. I can't live without you, sis. I've tried -- I've tried for so fuckin' long. So many years -- but ... but ... it's only gotten harder, and harder. -- Oh, god, Sammy." What little composure she had recovered crumbled again -- She grieved. Sobbing, blubbering. Left to wail in a puddle of mud and tears on the dreary forest floor until she couldn't go on any longer -- and fell asleep on the ground.
It was a quaint night. Weather mild, and the wind at ease. A breeze that gently rustled the canopy of crimson below, and sent hair shifting ever softly with its passing. The roof top of the apartment complex was quiet; Those below on the stone walk here drowned by the sound of thrumming ventilation and piping into nothing more than a whisper. A safe place to rest -- to think. Blaire sat upon the gritty concrete floor below, her back nuzzled up against the glass railing barrier and a bottle of that traditional cherry schnapps planted between her slightly parted legs cast in denim jeans scuffed by dirt and grass. One flattened and straight ahead, while the other curled in to provide a knee table for its corresponding terran arm. Her eyes wandered about the vibrant glittering display of stars and teal hued nebula's above -- a vast ocean of nothingness beyond. Gazing upon the stars was always humbling; How small one was within the grand clockwork Rube Goldberg machine of life. Pupils grazed from left to right in silent awe and appreciation, as the woman who stared began to speak out her mind to the spectre held in her heart. A ghostly glimmer of a memory that had began to ache and coil her chest even tighter than usual these days. "You saved someone, Sammy." She whispered softly to the sky, her voice pure and gentle. Washed with sincerity and warmth. " -- You saved n' eleven year old girl who had a one way ticket to your side. ... Seven whole years ago. -- And all this time ... She's been as alone as me." Blaire tilted her eyes down, her focus glazed and blurred absently. She slipped a hand of sleek carbon and silicon packed of motors and servos around the neck of the bottle by her lap, and tilted it past her lips. A peter of the syrupy liqueur soiling her tongue in it's overbearing sweetness. She puckered her cheeks and lapped the taste from her mouth as her head leered back upon the stars beaming above. "She's so much like you, Sam. It -- It's so fuckin' scary. The ... smile. The joy. The optimism. Her touch, her voice, her tastes, her interests... It's ... It's like bein' back in time. ... Like when we used to get up on stage, n' .... n' you'd blow your damn lungs out, stompin' and jumpin' like a fuckin' coked up toddler." Blaze giggled and laughed croakily to herself -- a laughter muddied by the dry wrenching knot that started swelling her throat. She sniffed, and desperately brought a thumb to her eyes to brush beneath them both. " -- I miss it, Sam. I miss ... playing music. I miss singing, I miss guitar ... " Her black lined eyes fell to the open palm of her robotic arm, staring through its silicon surface like a dying flame. The notion spoke for itself. She slowly clenched that fist -- or guided it to do so through the sensors clamped and wired to her nerves. " ... She's just like us, Sam. A drifter with nowhere to go. She's got dirty clothes n' a crappy guitar n' nothin' else. -- I ... Maybe I can give her a better life than we had at that age. Something ... " She didn't know how to continue her train of thought. She just let the silence overwhelm the air, a breeze brushing bangs across her face askew. "You woulda' loved this kid, Sam ... She's ... got your heart in more than one way. I -- I gotta watch out for her. For your sake.... For her's..." Her eyes, glistened and wet with a well of withheld tears drifted toward the sea of obsidian tangled light above once more. Her voice less than a mouse squeak. Less than a pin drop. " -- and for mine."
