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Name: Smuggle (CaeliM009) Parents: After-Rain F146 and Burny Mac M133 Mate: Current Location: Barney's Barn Bar |
Barney wasn't sure what to make of these flying cats, but this one triggered a memory that was as usual bittersweet. But here he was, right there, though with the wings and that beautiful iridescence on his throat that distinguished him as clearly not 'the same' cat.
*** From Nine Half-Lives ***
Barney had been asleep on the train, but then everyone else was exhausted too. It wasn't like they were going to miss their stop, this train would only go as far as their one destination. Everyone would disembark, everyone would be herded around like good cattle.
He wasn't too fond of that. When Eli had suggested that they try and make it to the European continent, Barney hadn't been hot on the idea. He knew there was a reason, for whatever purpose Eli didn't state, he did detect the singular burning passion in his voice when he suggested it. At long last, when they'd gotten their transfer papers ready and had made all the necessary changes to their identity codes, Eli told them why.
One word, he'd said, had changed everything.
Freeman.
After that, Barney didn't question it. Gordon was alive? That was worth following any lead, worth any amount of hassle. Barney hadn't known the man more than half a year. But in that short time they had changed the world. Or at least, gotten drunk at it, and shaken their wobbly fists in the air.
Gordon was a good guy. The best, according to Izzy's claims. When they met up with Mossman and a few others in France, they almost risked it all in raising a too-public toast to the One Free Man.
It was then that the revolution truly started. When they began to drift into the continent, to spread word. Of course, spreading a tale of amazing hardship and glory wasn't that easy. Not when everyone they met had no idea what language they were speaking, or were too terrified to reply.
They'd started small. They began to build over time. As more and more American refugees were brought across the land-bridge and in those terrifying vast ships, they realized that it was going to come down to the wire. Now or never. Start this damn revolution or die out.
They chose. Those memories of recent months dug deeply into Barney's mind. He got the feeling he was being watched, for some reason. Eyes that were more green than blue stared at him: not cat's eyes, certainly. He was used to those. He missed them. Yellow. Purring was pretty far from the sound that Barney heard: the metal-on-metal of railcar brakes. With a start, Barney woke up and realized that he would somehow have to pass the entrance scans.
As Barney got off the train, he lugged his single suitcase like everyone else did; placed it onto a little cart and watched it get wheeled away to be inspected and maybe handed back to him if he was lucky enough to get through the scan himself.
Would he really risk this? Carrying subversive materials was one thing. He and the others had been split up but knew their destination would be the same. Eventually they would all come together again, but he had his orders. He wasn't going to fail them. Except…
“Mister Calhoun? Barney Calhoun?” A woman's curt voice came over the loudspeaker in the station waiting area, and he rose. She'd been calling out other names since their arrival minutes before. People didn't get let into this City, numbered 14, unless they were clean. Clean meant more these days than just well washed . Barney made his way to the side room that he'd watched people enter. One by one, they went in, and presumably came out to the City proper.
That's what he hoped, anyway. It could wind up being a serious problem if it didn't let out into the place they'd agreed on!
Barney hadn't heard any sirens go off, no klaxons indicating a threat, and he'd seen all of his companions go through those doors. Meaning, hopefully, that they'd all made it through with their contraband intact. Everyone was carrying something different: parts and plans, machinery that was easily broken down and explained as health equipment or family heirlooms.
Barney sat nervously, with three others in a smaller waiting room. Each of them was summoned by a masked Civil Protection worker, in turn, as others were brought in. One finally got to Barney, who followed the man into an even more isolated room. There he sat, on an uncomfortable chair, in a room he just knew had once been used to interrogate prisoners. It had that feel.
Another official came in, sat herself down across from him in the only other chair. She looked sternly at him. Her hair had once been dark, but was now speckled with white, and shaved close to her skull where two info-ports had been installed. She was more Combine than Human, he realized. But she hadn't undergone the full treatment .
Very shortly, another helmeted CP deposited Barney's luggage into the room, exited, and shut the door behind him.
“Mister Calhoun,” the woman stated flatly, “is this your luggage?”
He looked it over, without moving. “Yes?” Could she tell he was nervous? Everyone she met had to be nervous, no one ever was stupid enough to be calm in here. Everyone had their own reasons. “It is. Is there a problem?”
The woman lowered her head, keeping her eyes on his. Hers had a strange sheen to them, almost metallic. Had she gotten replacement eyes? That was creepy. “Yes, and no.” She reached down to pick up the heavy suitcase. Since there was no desk or table, she merely set it onto her lap, turned it to face him, and opened it. Locks were so last-century, apparently.
Her expression hadn't changed, really, she looked more dead than deadpan. She might have been pretty, once. Her tongue surprisingly came out to lick her lips, before she said, “is that yours ?” Her eyes flickered downwards, then back up to meet Barney's again.
The cat in the suitcase was still sleeping, though groggy and starting to stir. They hadn't known how long it would take to get through security, after all. And Izzy wasn't really a vet by any stretch of the imagination. He'd whipped up something to knock it out, said nothing, and got on the train back at their last City.
Barney scratched the back of his head. “Well, I… uh, that is,” he stammered. He fought back the urge to just grab his suitcase and bolt out the door. It was a good thing that he didn't.
“Well keep it quiet ,” the woman said, carefully shutting the case and pinning it closed without even looking. She leaned over a bit, closing the distance to Barney's ear. “We get some strange things through here, Mr. Calhoun. Not too often people smuggle pets in. It's unauthorized, but… it's so cute.” She drew in a breath and handed him his suitcase, stood, and indicated that he could go. To the left, down the hall, outside to the courtyard.
His friends waited, City 14 was now ready to be revolutionized.
Barney's Barn Bar Barn Cats ... Barney is from Half Life / Valve; Map used for bar via Gmod, apparently is from the Life is Strange game? Xen from Crowbar Collective's Black Mesa.
Individual cats will be from various artists, credited on pages.
Fonts used: Airstream, Scribble, AnimalTracks