984/Future Blind

Future Blind
Date of Scene:	16 June 2017
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	757, Cable

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Ruth Aldine (757) has posed:
YEAR 2044:

Wind funnels that strike yellow, reds and golds touched down on an empty wasteland of bone and metal. One clack against the other, thunder encasing the wind funnels that signify an unnatural storm that threatens to tear all life. Unnatural in the sense that it was not man made or mutant made, but machine made. Not a funnel that was born from a Sentinel but something far more advanced and sinister.

Thunder follows in its wake. It was almost like a warning to those who were in the vicinity. One that says, run away. Get away while you can. And if not, too bad.

Warriors would call that a tease, to see the vermin run and scatter while they hunt them down for what they were. Nothing.

A group of them trek tiredly along the bone, dirt, metal.. blood.. oil.. feces...

One woman falls, withchild whilst another helps her up. A child pulls his hood down, bright white eyes turned to the sky, hair of the same color falling upon his olive face as he glances to the sky.. the sky that would have been ..

NOW:

It was hard for her to get home. So hard. Ruth had cowered in between the buildings of Nelson and Murdock, unable to let go of the vision. Unable to let herself see the path in which she walks. Both hands clutching upon her ears as if her minds eye would not look in favor of no sound. She was hungry. She knew that she smelled. And everytime someone neared her she skittered away. "Ah-h-h-h.." She whimpered out, her head shaking as she lifts her blindfolded face to find a chance of at least a bit of air.. or a pang of sympathy..

Cable has posed:
The portal that opened at the end of the alleyway smelled of ozone, sharp and acrid, letting in the sounds of fury and chaos beyond. Only for a moment, though, as Cable steps through and into the backstreets of New York. He has a heavy canvas cloak wrapped around him, almost like a tarp, the hood pulled up to keep grit and hell out of his eyes.

He peels it back as he looks at the little blind girl, watching as she wanders, confused and alone. He knows her for who she is, what she is. She sees the future, after all.

He is the future.

"Blindfold," he says softly. "Do you need help?" he says. He doesn't explain who he is, knowing it isn't necessary. For her, he'll radiate strangeness, a thousand different futures cascading and pivoting around him, overwhelming her precognition with the sheer weight of destiny that lays upon his shoulders. That and the sharp tang of gun oil and smoke upon his person as he takes a knee, his massive body kneeling as he reaches out to offer her a gleaming metal hand.

Ruth Aldine (757) has posed:
She could see it before it happens, mingling with the scene of the apocalypse some twenty, maybe forty years ahead. It wasn't a sure thing, perhaps it was just an imagined thing that she fixed on because she feels the need to cry. The need to cry. The one that doesn't come. She could feel the burn, most definitely, hear the quiet whimpers that draw from her lips, yes. But.. the tears? No.

Nothing.

And for some reason, after 19 years, this hurts. It hurts the most, even when the arm outstretches in front of her.. one that she smacks away.. and nothing. Nothing was there. And then.. there was! But in this vision, this version, she doesn't smack it away. Because she knows, deep down, that would be rude.

"I'm.. I'm sorry.." She whimpers out, both hands clutching her stomach, unable to remove them for fear of smacking his hand away. "..I'm so hungry.." So yes. She needs help. And yes, she knew that he would know her name. But she? She doesn't know his.

Cable has posed:
He shrugs off his cloak, finding it far too hot on this side of the world to wear it. He reaches into his belt, "Not much, but something," he says. It's an energy bar, coated in chocolate, with a bit of peanut butter mingled in with the granola. Dry, yes, but effective.

"I'm called Cable,' he says. She can shield her mind, of course, but she's radiating pretty hard in her deprived state and he can pick up enough to sense her puzzlement. "A link between the past and the future. So are you," he says.

"Come with me. I have a safehouse nearby. We can get you off the street and figure out what's going on," he says. He psi-scans quickly, flicking thorugh the surrounding neighborhoods. No threats nearby. Not yet.

Ruth Aldine (757) has posed:
Smaller hands reach for the cloak, tugging it to her lap, pressing it against her stomach, then bundling it against her chin to smell. It smelled out of flux, and yes.. in her weakened state, she scans him, the past, the present, the future, and as he speaks his name she does as well, quietly and barely heard.

"Aksani.."

The bar was taken, folded up for later. If she ate it now, she would have thrown up. Five minutes, then she would be safe. But.. could they move?

"Safehouse not safe." She murmurs quietly, slowly rocking back and forth, covetting the items as if they were her only friend. "Safehouse not safe. Ruth dies. Blindfold is born.."

Cable has posed:
Cable frowns, "Not safe?" he says. He doesn't fully understand Ruth's talents - precogs were notoriously unreliable, even the best of them. But he knew enough to be cautious. And if there was a threat at the safehouse, he couldn't leave it unattended.

"Unsafe how?" he asks. He pulls her along, keeping her hand in his, letting her pull the heavy cloak behind them as they go. They likely make quite a sight, the heavily armed man and the blindfolded young girl. But a single glare from the scarred man makes most anyone inclined to stare turn quickly away.

Ruth Aldine (757) has posed:
"Ut'Un.." Ruth shakes her head, keeping everything with one hand, whilst the other clings to his tightly. "Tight fits. All tight fits. Ruth can't get in to hide. Sorry.." She says quietly, the visions of the reddened tornado crashing against her again, which sets off a fury of brain activity that makes an impressionable hit on the astral world.

That means.. whatever future, that could be changed, caused a major upset that possibly any psychic on her frequency could feel.

"Reavers. Trap. Walk duck. Shoot left. Blast up. Up again and down. Five of them." She trips a little, a small stumble that has her tightening the hold upon his hand. "Reaver at the back tic-tock.. sorry.."

Ruth Aldine (757) has posed:
Perhaps that was the reason as to why she grabbed the cloak. It was bigger than her, thick enough, large enough for her to actually hide beneath it and look as if she were just a pile of scrap. His orders were easy. Stay there.

Cable has posed:
Cable shakes his head, "Don't be sorry," he says. Likely he would've survived the encounter anyway - he's Cable, after all, and he doesn't lose a lot of fights. Fighting is, after all, everything he does.

But the tips would definitely help, especially to get out clean.

He arrives at the entrance to the safehouse. "Stay here. Keep low. Don't come in until I say," he says, drawing a submachine gun for one hand and a pistol for the other.

Ruth Aldine (757) has posed:
Perhaps that was the reason as to why she grabbed the cloak. It was bigger than her, thick enough, large enough for her to actually hide beneath it and look as if she were just a pile of scrap. His orders were easy. Stay there. And as she slowly moves towards the corner after releasing herself from his hand, she immediately throws the cloak over her person, keeping herself concealed from view. It was then, where she finally eats the granola bar, munching quietly and happy as kept.

Cable has posed:
The shots come in rapid sequence, echoing in the tight space but barely audible through the soundproofed walls of the place. He follows her instructions, moving with rapid, almost mechanical prowess.

One down. Two. Three. The last two are uglier, getting in close quarters. He has to struggle, breaking the arm of one, driving a knife into the gut of another. That one he keeps alive, though, for at least ten more minutes.

Long enough to ask questions. Long enough that she might hear a few of his screams.

Finally, though, the door opens again. "Safe again." he says with a gruff hint to his voice, only a bit of blood splatter on his cybernetic limb giving a hint as to the chaos. That and the lingering smell of gunsmoke.