A Bizarre New World, Chapter One: Cat’s In The Cradle

[Cthulhu_of_R'lyeh]

"Isn't it all the same thing?" Miguel questioned, with a shrug. "It's more than just sleight of hand, though. Illusions, escapology...I could go on and on," Miguel said, before he sighed lamentably, "Of course many of those things would benefit from a bigger budget. Maybe some day..."

Vivian blinked.

"No, no it's not." Though she figured that ones willful ignorance to something so unavoidably true, likely meant an inability to mesh their worldview with proper reality.

She was hardly one to force that point. Though that did suggest the conversation was over and done with... and just in time.

"Maybe one day you'll make it. Find that stage of yours."

The cheerful ding of a bell could be heard across the Junction Stop as Nancy ringed up the order, "Eggs and bacon..."

Sitting on a phalanx of 12 dinner-plates stood a monstrous mass of eggs a foot high... and one tiny plate of bacon.

"... all we had left was a pack of turkey bacon... enjoy..."

With that said, she proceeded on, much more easily, with the other orders.

"That'll do, thank you miss." Was all Vivian said... before the meal was paid for, and the plates very rapidly shifted from countertop to a nearby booth's table.

Butt in seat, Vivian set to work.

Whatever it was going on with the others, and Fleetwood Hack, could be dealt with after.

[KingofPie]

Vivian blinked.

"No, no it's not." Though she figured that ones willful ignorance to something so unavoidably true, likely meant an inability to mesh their worldview with proper reality.

She was hardly one to force that point. Though that did suggest the conversation was over and done with... and just in time.

"Maybe one day you'll make it. Find that stage of yours."

"I certainly hope so," Miguel sighed in agreement. "If uh, pop's legacy is worth a damn anyway..."

The woman seemed to have moved on to other things, namely a meal and Miguel couldn't blame her, instead shifting his attention to another conversation at hand. Some sort of reporter looking into matters involving the Joestar family? He certainly did his research. Miguel reached over to touch the star shaped birthmark on the back of his neck.

"Plane crash, car-jackings, accidents, the list goes on, but they were all on their way to the same reading as you. Like I said, there is a bigger question to all of this. The question is; what did Johannes Joestar really die from? Officially, it was stated to be Night Fever, but my sources tell me that his symptoms were nothing like Night Fever's."

"Hey, yo wait. Hold up a minute," Miguel interjected. "So if he didn't die from Night Fever? What exactly were his symptoms?" The more and more he'd heard about this whole affair, the more it sounded like a set up from some old-school murder mystery. Except the Orient Express, in this case, was the mansion of this motley group's estranged father.

[The Dog]

Sandra considered what Jamie said, but only one thing stuck out. She overheard Jamie tell the old lady about that the guys she had been carpooling with had "bad opinions". Transphobes, huh? And her being worried about her well-being means only one thing.

Eh, whatever. If it made Jamie happy. Sandra wasn't one to judge in that regard.

She said nothing and made no indication that she heard what she said. It wasn't anyone's place to call that out unless Jamie wanted to talk about it.

"Sounds like you made the right choice. A long walk is better than the alternative."

"Yeah, I think so too. Not going to lie, that knowledge helped me make it through the 107 degree heat... Though I am lucky that I found this place when I did, else I don't know how much longer it would have kept me going." Jamie said.

[Tami]

Jinny suddenly went silent, a lump formed in her throat for a moment. A reminder of a still fresh pain, a loss too recent to push aside so easily. The dour look on her face slowly melted as she realized that something deadly serious was going on.

Finally shaking herself out of her own thoughts, "Fleetwood Mac, how did you track all of us down, and how many children did Mr. Joestar actually have? Some of us didn't even know he was our father until recently, so how did you find out? More importantly, how much more do you know about what this is all about?"

[Yun Lao]

"Hey, yo wait. Hold up a minute," Miguel interjected. "So if he didn't die from Night Fever? What exactly were his symptoms?" The more and more he'd heard about this whole affair, the more it sounded like a set up from some old-school murder mystery. Except the Orient Express, in this case, was the mansion of this motley group's estranged father.

He shrugged, "Dunno. The Speedwagon Foundation has been oddly quiet when it comes to this matter. Judging by my sources, it might have been related to his latest research into Night Fever."

Finally shaking herself out of her own thoughts, "Fleetwood Mac, how did you track all of us down, and how many children did Mr. Joestar actually have? Some of us didn't even know he was our father until recently, so how did you find out? More importantly, how much more do you know about what this is all about?"

"One," He began, holding up a finger, "It's difficult to tell how many of you are his kids. A lot of the people coming to the will reading were either distant relatives or fakers looking to cash in, but... I would say 16 of you are the real deal. Two..." Raising a second finger up, "I didn't track you down. I waited here because I knew Johannes lived in El Cruce and this is one of the very few rest stops nearby. You all just happened to come to me. Third... a good reporter never shows all of his cards until it's in print."

[Tami]

He shrugged, "Dunno. The Speedwagon Foundation has been oddly quiet when it comes to this matter. Judging by my sources, it might have been related to his latest research into Night Fever."



"One," He began, holding up a finger, "It's difficult to tell how many of you are his kids. A lot of the people coming to the will reading were either distant relatives or fakers looking to cash in, but... I would say 16 of you are the real deal. Two..." Raising a second finger up, "I didn't track you down. I waited here because I knew Johannes lived in El Cruce and this is one of the very few rest stops nearby. You all just happened to come to me. Third... a good reporter never shows all of his cards until it's in print."

"Fourth," Jinny held up four fingers, "I've got one of the best law firms in Manhattan on speed dial. If you print anything that hasn't been approved by us ahead of time, you and your publication will be so mired down in lawsuits and litigation you'd be lucky to find a job teaching spelling to pre-schoolers."

[MrSandman]

Seeing that the cook looks to be occupied with other orders at the moment...

Setting her fork and knife down atop the most recent pile of (shockingly clean) dishes, Gula takes a moment or so to stand - struggling briefly as her legs immediately balked at the idea of having to suddenly support a load after the extensive eating exposition. A quick look at herself, the room, and finally her presumed- and quickly confirmed- destination, and then she was in motion - making note of yet otherwise ignoring everyone and everything between her and the esurient one.

They could wait- and would- until the hunger was dealt with.

"So to sum things up," Gula began to ask once she was within reach of the other, "you want food but can't pay for it, and accepting it without cost is... bad, for some reason? Is that right?"

It seemed keeping a low profile was more difficult then initially planned....why were so many people getting so upset over her diet.

"Accepting Charity when you are capable of earning it yourself is bad." Lucy suddenly responded. "If I am to be indebted to others it should be my choice to be so. I was trained to operate on minimal rations....In Canada..." Lucy Quickly added. "The Girl Scouts"

Her eyes flashed around the room, any more questioning would be bad....she needed a diversion. Or at least something to distract all the people offering her food....

[Yun Lao]

"Fourth," Jinny held up four fingers, "I've got one of the best law firms in Manhattan on speed dial. If you print anything that hasn't been approved by us ahead of time, you and your publication will be so mired down in lawsuits and litigation you'd be lucky to find a job teaching spelling to pre-schoolers."

He laughed, although it was lacking in mirth, "You'll have to forgive me for cowering at your feet, but Rumours isn't some ambulance-chasing smear rag. You're not the first one to threaten me, nor with legal action. Besides, you think I don't have dirt on some lawyers in Manhattan? Simply put, I'm not looking for you or anyone's permission, I'm looking for the truth."

[Tami]

He laughed, although it was lacking in mirth, "You'll have to forgive me for cowering at your feet, but Rumours isn't some ambulance-chasing smear rag. You're not the first one to threaten me, nor with legal action. Besides, you think I don't have dirt on some lawyers in Manhattan? Simply put, I'm not looking for you or anyone's permission, I'm looking for the truth."

"I'll believe it when I see it." smirking slightly as she spoke. Funny thing is, she was just, barely, starting to warm up to him. Not that she still didn't trust him or his publisher.

[bruceleegreyhulk]

"I might be able to help you with that."

It is unknown how long he had been seated there, reading his newspaper, but it was long enough for their conversation to catch his attention. Lowering the paper a young man with glasses reached into a pocket before withdrawing a small envelope.

"You're not the only one who has that same mark," He declared, producing three pictures depicting different people with the same marking.



"That star-shaped mark on your neck is the hereditary birthmark Joestar, which proves your relationship with Johannes Joestar."

Boris looks at the pictures." I have that same mark on my neck. So Johannes Joestar really is my father. The man, my Great uncle calls deadbeat no good son of a bitch, and other not so flattery terms," Boris said.

" My name is Boris Kuvalda. I'm a ventriloquist, just a ventriloquist," Boris said.

[Yun Lao]

Boris looks at the pictures." I have that same mark on my neck. So Johannes Joestar really is my father. The man, my Great uncle calls deadbeat no good son of a bitch, and other not so flattery terms," Boris said.

" My name is Boris Kuvalda. I'm a ventriloquist, just a ventriloquist," Boris said.

Considering the recent outburst from the employee and this man, Fleetwood had a good idea on why Boris insisted on empathizing his words. "Whatever you say, buddy. Sure you'd be hit in the G.I.Z."

[Tami]

Boris looks at the pictures." I have that same mark on my neck. So Johannes Joestar really is my father. The man, my Great uncle calls deadbeat no good son of a bitch, and other not so flattery terms," Boris said.

" My name is Boris Kuvalda. I'm a ventriloquist, just a ventriloquist," Boris said.

"What venues do you usually perform in? Have you done any stage work?"

[Cthulhu_of_R'lyeh]

He laughed, although it was lacking in mirth, "You'll have to forgive me for cowering at your feet, but Rumours isn't some ambulance-chasing smear rag. You're not the first one to threaten me, nor with legal action. Besides, you think I don't have dirt on some lawyers in Manhattan? Simply put, I'm not looking for you or anyone's permission, I'm looking for the truth."

"Want some eggs?" Came an almost shouted ask, from behind a veritable mountain of them. "Truth sounds like fun. I've got some to dish."

[Sub-Zero MKA]

"Want some eggs?" Came an almost shouted ask, from behind a veritable mountain of them. "Truth sounds like fun. I've got some to dish."

Sandra knew.... whoever wasn't talking to her, but fuck it. She was starving and a mountain of eggs was going to go very nicely with that sandwich she ordered earlier.

She took a plate, offering a muttered, "Cunt," before retreating to the booth she had originally been sitting in.

[Yun Lao]

"Want some eggs?" Came an almost shouted ask, from behind a veritable mountain of them. "Truth sounds like fun. I've got some to dish."

Obviously, he was cautious considering he was talking to someone either behind the eggs or within. Before he could answer, however, there appeared to be another arrival as a large transport bus came to a stop, it's air brakes hissing.

"Huh, a bit early ain't it?" Lenny said, taking a look at the time.

"Naw, that ain't the public bus, take a look at the sign," Carla replied, pointing to the large lettering on the bus' side.

「Volbeat Touring」

"Can't say I've ever heard of that company," The old man said before shrugging.

The bus' doors opened and despite its size, only a handful of people stepped out; of note were three of them, a large man with tribal tattoos, a young woman with long hair, and the bus driver, a man with a cowboy hat. The trio, along with the other few, stepped inside with most of them heading to the bathrooms.

Nancy, who at this point had finished with everyone's orders, once again slipped out for a smoke, dreading any further potential customers.