isaacapatow

[isaacapatow]

"Hrrmph." Ike let the grunt roll through his chest and up his throat as he peered at Nicki's note through the glasses he wore more or less habitually now, when he was in town. "Roanoke? That's an interesting one. Looks like we're gonna have to start figuring out who-all got these left on their doors." Reaching into the inner breast pocket of his jacket, Ike extracted his own note, unfolding it to show to Nicki. "Same style, same handwriting, different paper. D'you know the Franklin Expedition? A failed mission to fully map the Northwest Passage -- two big ol' sail ships getting trapped in the Arctic ice and all of 'em dying or disappearing."

closed starter for @isaacapatow

location: Ike's house

The note she found on her door was bothering her maybe more than it should. What the hell did it mean you are the Roanoke colony? While she barely paid attention in history, she remembered that the Roanoke colony was a settlement that just randomly disappeared without anyone figuring out why or where they went and that little bit of knowledge was enough to set her on edge. Was this a threat? A joke? She didn't know but she sure as hell was going to find out.

That was why she was on her way to see Ike. She wanted to show it to him first and get his take on it before worrying Ares. He'd be more sensible about it and talk her down. That and she didn't want to worry Ares preemptively. Thankfully she found him outside his house as she approached, note in hand. "Look what I found on my door this morning," she said as she approached and handed it to him, "tell me what you think this means before I start freaking the fuck out."

[isaacapatow]

You find a note attached to your front door. In lowercase letters it reads: you are the franklin expedition.

"Huh." Ike looked at the note, then held it further away from himself as if that might help, then brought it closer again. "The Franklin Expedition. Somebody trying to tell me it's time to go out on the ice floe?"

There wasn't any indication of who'd left it, or might have written it -- nobody's face hidden around a corner gloating and giggling -- so Ike pocketed the note, and went about his day. Whatever was behind this would come to light. That was sure enough.

[isaacapatow]

"Big, small, that's what the raiders are here for. No promises, mind you -- shit knows it's a crapshoot out there, especially this far into apocaworld -- but we're pretty god damn good at our job." Even if Ike was taking a more ... administrative role these days, coordinating raids and mostly focusing on esoteric runs to get weird shit that caught his fancy and imagination, rather than the cold hard supplies.

Aaliyah pointed out that the twins weren't her firsts, and Ike nodded, winding his mind back to when she'd first reached Redwood. "Right, right! But the older kid's kinda ... much older, isn't he? Why the long gap?"

Aaliyah's eyes looked all over the self with everything the town had offered for baby supplies. Diapers, a bit of formula, blankets, clothes, & more. It was more than she'd seen. She grabbed a few diapers of different kinds. She even grabbed some food items, wondering if Kiyana & Aurelia would eat them. They were both picky. "I might need to make a small list for them." She needed a few things but didn't want to say it out loud.

She shrugged at his words & let out a small laugh. "I'm used to cleaning up after babies." She nods towards the twins. "You're looking at numbers two & three."

[isaacapatow]

"Hah haaaaaaah!" Ike crowed at Shawn's comment about him being a shrink, bending his knees and leaning backwards to aim his laugh upwards at the sky. "Man, that would be a good one huh? Can you see me looking all respectable and trimmed up in a psychiatrist office with a ... a desk and one'a those clacky-ball sculptures on it and shit?" He mimed the action of using a Newton's cradle, pulling back a sphere on the end to send the line of spheres moving. "Naw. But I ran a halfway house for people in recovery, mostly addicts. Having been one myself." He didn't bother punctuating the information with a flash of his trackmark scars; Shawn didn't need them, he figured. Ike wasn't shy about his past but he didn't wave it around like he required the street cred. "So yeah, you're on the money there, I've had a lot of struggling with change. Of all sorts."

Watching her keenly, Ike ventured, "...wondering if the person you had to be out there is gonna be able to adjust to being who you are in here? Where you don't have to prepare yourself every single fuckin' day to maybe do shitty, fucked-up things to survive?"

~~*~~

A smile pulled at her lips. It was almost amusing that it took the world ending for her to actually find her own strength. If that was what this was. She hadn't died yet and that had to count for something. If anyone had asked her before all this if she'd survive on her own, she'd have said no. Not even a little bit. But he was right, she did do it before and she could do it again. Everyone here probably had to at some point. But then there was the question of going soft. Would she be able to survive out there again if this didn't work?

"So were you a shrink before...everything," she gestured vaguely to the gate and then dropped her hands to run nervously on her jeans as she turned to look at him, "Or did you just pick up a few things along the way? Sounds like I'm not the first to struggle with the...um...change."

[isaacapatow]

"It's a different sort of noise," Ike said, after a moment's listening himself to see what it was Shawn was hearing. "You get used to one kind and then it seems like you fix your whole mindset around it and when it changes, it's like you gotta get used to a new bunch of rules for survival. But you've done it before."

Ike leaned back, looking at Shawn down the slant of his beaky nose. "It'll take a while again," he offered. "You've only been in the gates for a week, away from straining your ears every minute of the day to hear if the groaners are headed towards you. Your fight or flight hasn't had a chance to fully stand down yet."

Who: Shawn and OPEN

Where: Near the gates

When: Late Evening

It was a strange mix of relief and anxiety that filled her every time she stopped long enough to let herself think. On the one hand, she was safe here. At least from the dead. And from most people that had ill intentions. But on the other, she had given up some of her freedom. She understood the need for rules and walls and schedules, it just felt like a different kind of cage. Or maybe she had spent too long outside.

"I can't get used to the noise," she commented to whomever had walked up behind her as she stared out the gate. Being aware of her surroundings was too ingrained in her now, as it probably was in anyone who'd lived outside the safety of town for as long as she had. "It feels too loud. Makes me anxious."

[isaacapatow]

Do you think Ark still exists? Would you go back to destroy it?

If it wasn't all the fucktheway out on the other side of the god damn country, I'd be heading there with torches and a pitchfork along with my bat right now. Ark is one of those places where the evil is so great that it's taken hold of the dirt and reshaped it for its own purposes. Nothing will get that fuckin place off this earth except fire.

[isaacapatow]

Do you sometimes wish you had raised a child?

Yeah. In an abstract sorta way because when the fuck was I ever stable enough or in some kind of relationship enough to raise a kid?? But I like kids. It would've been great to have a daughter, I would've made one fuckin awesome girldad.

[isaacapatow]

(PUNCH)DRUNK CONFESSIONS

send in asks for my character to answer while inebriated sleep-deprived. Happy askmeme weekend!

[isaacapatow]

[ sexy photoshoot time ]

[isaacapatow]

"Well, that's the good part about being in Redwood -- you've got your friendly neighbourhood raiders to go out and get any of the things that you might really need." Ike trotted around Aaliyah when she brought her stroller to a stop at the shelf where the baby things were, leaning up against it so he could watch her sort through the offerings. "They make all kinds of fancy reusable ones," he said conversationally. "We were able to find that kind on some of the raids, with the outer..." he jabbed a finger at one of the variety he was referring to, "...shells? So you just have to switch out the inner lining when it gets soiled."

One of the babies cooed suddenly and Ike smiled down at the infant. "No such thing as a laundry service when it comes to washing up the babyshit, though," he said, jovially enough since it wasn't like he had to deal with it. "You could probably trade with somebody in town to get them to take the job, if you really wanted. People love spending time with babies."

Aaliyah got a good look at him & cleared her throat. She didn't necessarily feel embarrased over his reaction but hoped that he was simply joking & not being serious. "Oh..well..." She looked him up & down again. "I mean...you do look like you'd have experience with a diaper change or two," she muttered. She watched him babble at her babies & was at least relieved that he appeared to be friendly with them. She nodded in understand, seeing as how she was right. He had at least changed one or two. But it sounded like he was the curious, or invasive, type that would ask her a load of questions.

She looked at the direction he pointed in & nodded, immediately pushing the baby carrier in that very direction. Aaliyah noticed he was following after his questions & then shook her head. "Whatever works," she said softly. "I feel lucky if I can find a good pair of diapers now these days," she mumbled.

[isaacapatow]

"Is this 'cause I look like a grandpa who's changed a diaper or eighteen over the years?" Ike chortled, bending down storklike to take a peek at the babies, making a wide-eyed startled face at them and cooing some gibberish with a wobble of his long fingers before straightening back up again. "As it so happens, I have changed a bunch of diapers, but none belonging to any young'uns of my own. Not that it makes any difference to knowing where shit is in the supermarket. I know that out of plain being in everyone's business."

Ike craned around in a few directions, then pointed off to one side of the supermarket, away from the fresh food items that were always out for people to choose from. "I'd say over there. That's where they keep anything that's more in line with personal hygiene." He started to amble in that direction, clearly feeling involved in this venture now. "No objections to cloth, I hope? Last time we found a pack of Huggies the cotton wadding junk in them was basically powder!"

open starter /// location: supermarket

The Amana family had only been in Redwood for a week. But in that week, Aaliyah had mostly stayed inside besides walking with Aris to the school & back to her home with the twins. It wasn't that far of a walk so it wasn't hard to go back & forth. She barely ventured out & strayed from her routine. It wasn't far from the playground so she had no issue bringing the twins to the swings & gently swinging them back & forth as she sung to them.

After a trip to the playground, she wanted to feed Aurelia & Kiyana, but when she got home she realized she was way too short on diapers. Way too short, meaning she was out. The clock was ticking on when they'd need more & that was only maybe an hour, including the time she had to breastfeed each twin individually. Aaliyah ran her hands across her face before pulling her top down & beginning the feeding process.

It took longer than expected & now she only had maybe 15 minutes before the twins needed a change. She quickly dressed herself & the twins, putting them in their stroller & walking as quick as she could to the supermarket. But when she got there, she realized she didn't know where anything was. "Excuse me," she says to the nearest person. "Can you show me where the diapers are?"

[isaacapatow]

IT'S WORLD DONKEY DAY! So Vi and me gave 'em some extra lovin'.

[isaacapatow]

Motherfucker.

If Ike still had any doubts about the veracity of Aaron's claim, that one piece of fucked-up Biblical lore knocked it on its ass. Barsabbas and Matthias. It made sense, now that Ike was looking at it; Ark couldn't manage to keep as insular and white as it was forever. He just hadn't thought they'd lean so far in the other direction.

"What I could've been before I was ... corrupted?" Ike stared at Aaron for a moment, then laughed, a short harsh hoot that echoed through the precinct building. "Yeah. Shit, yeah, that sounds exactly like what they'd say. How they'd explain me going splitsville." He wanted to ask so much more. About what the Elders were like these days, about if the Word had been changed in its doctrine and discipline, if his sisters were all right. But that was too much to contemplate, all at once, in the face of this beautiful descendant of Barsabbas looking at him with big limpid dark genuine Ark eyes. Ike shifted his tongue around against his teeth, scraping their sharp edges in contemplation. Then he stepped forward and unlocked the cell door. "Get out," he said, then ameliorated: "I'm sick of this three-day confinement rule. I'm making an executive decision. As one of the corrupted proto-Elders of the god-fucked Ark." He nodded towards the main door. "Go on. Git."

Isaac was from Ark. The realization settled in his chest like a block of ice, making his blood run cold. The dread was too familiar, even if Aaron hadn't felt it in years. Being accused of lying while telling the truth didn't make it better - like being walled in on his left and right. And with the cool stone walls pressing in on him, there was no way back. Only forward.

"I'm not lying. I'm from Ark. Like you. Barely anybody knows about that place, no reason to lie about it." Aaron spoke, able to keep the tremors out of his voice despite his nerves. He was sure he'd never seen Isaac in Ark, and that- Isaac. That name had sounded familiar. "Barsabbas. They considered us descendants of Barsabbas, not Matthias, but we were allowed there. We moved there."

Aaron straightened himself out a little, everything falling into place. "Things changed since you left. They told us about you. About what you could've been. Before you were corrupted. I grew up with stories about you. I'm not lying."

[isaacapatow]

"Whaaaat? C'mon. Lucy in the Sky with Tin Cans doesn't know Liverpudlian slang?" Ike huffed a laugh, using his hands to articulate his explanation, moving them from side to side in front of him. "Gear, that means cool in hip sixties Beatles slang, and fab, like the Fab Four. For fabulous."

He could've gone on -- about Hard Day's Night the movie, about the shifting nature of slang, but honestly Ike figured it might just muddle things up between them even more. He chuckled a little to himself at the prospect -- most of the time even his most byzantine ways of talking seemed to resolve enough for the other person, but with Lucy it was like they were two similarly charged ends of a magnet. Something about their manners of speech sort of ... repelled each other, in a non-value weighted way. An almost literal way.

"I eat tin cans like a goat does," Ike said, then added "--tell me you know about that being shorthand in cartoons for how goats eat everything. I don't actually eat tin cans."

Whatever Melrose Place was. Mostly, Lucy was tickled by Ike's use of betwixt. She stretched both arms overhead, satisfying little pops sounding their way up her back. "Nah, not really. I just lack sufficient enrichment in my enclosure lately. It's got me seeking alternatives." Dropping her hands back to her lap, Lucy shared another laugh. "I don't particularly know that tin can dodging is the stimulation I need, though."

Lucy rarely spoke to men with more grey than not in their hair - unless it was school or work related. Sometimes the age gap meant linguistic challenges. At least this was a novel one. "The hell is gear fab?"

Turning the answer over, Lucy was quiet a stretch before leaning in to ask, "Gonna throw a tin can at me if I ask more?

[isaacapatow]

Ike watched Orion handling that rotting peach in his long, strong fingers, the delicate way he picked it over. He did everything with such precise care, did Orion; as if he needed to be gentle so as not to disturb what he'd found, as he went through the necessary process of observation, categorization, possibly cross-referencing. Only after it had been fully scanned and internalized could Orion dispose of something, and sure enough, down went that grubby peach on the shelf with its grubby sides up.

"Yeah," Ike said, going through his own filtering process of how Orion framed it. "It's not using her if she willingly wants to help us. Help the whole town." That was a different prospect altogether, than actively using Meg in whatever capacity she might have when it came to the Daybreakers.

Once the good peaches had been carefully packed away, Ike lifted his chin to motion them out of the cellar. "We all deserve to feel safe," he said, and climbed the stairs up and out.

Orion knew what Ike sounded like when Ike was thinking. He sometimes did it quietly, calculations that translated into actions. Sometimes he did so loudly, starting with a thought as if still working through it, and then following it, inviting others to come and go even further. Ike was agreeing with what Orion had suggested, about keeping Meg's potential work as a spy a secret.

"We would be able to find weak spots in our security system, if that is the case. It would help us." Orion put the peach onto the shelf. He remembered a girl. Older, covered in thick, rotten blood. Eyes wide with what he'd assumed to be fear, baring her teeth like an animal. Then dead. Just a child, used, indoctrinated. Orion put the peach back on the shelf, moldy side up as if the rotten juices and fuzz of fungi might stain the wood.

"We might be able to use it to our advantage. Use that channel to send wrong messages and give them false information." Orion picked through the peaches, sorting out those that they couldn't use, until only those that they could bring back were left. They'd have to be used soon, or they would be wasted food. "We shouldn't use her. It would not be good for her. But she could help us, if she learns that this place will keep her safe."

It was all an if. If she was a spy. If she could be convinced. If she wanted to help them. "She should be allowed to feel safe."

[isaacapatow]

It was astonishing what one little three-letter word could do to run ice water through your veins. God had stopped being that word a long time ago. Ark never had.

"You're lying." Ike didn't move closer to the bars; he stayed where he was, letting the ambient shadows of the dreary precinct building do their work at obscuring his expression. That was an Ark trick, actually; angling your shadow or your light, depending on the reaction you were after. "Tell the truth. You can't be from Ark, they don't allow sons of Ham into the town much less let them live there." And if Aaron truly was conversant in Church Law, he'd understand what Ike was saying without saying. "Now tell me why you'd choose Ark of all places to include in your lie."

"Yep. Pretty convenient." It didn't feel much like it. Maybe it was being locked up in a prison cell. Things could've turned out differently if they'd been anywhere else. Maybe he'd still be with his friends. Maybe in a different settlement. Then again, maybe he'd be dead.

Aaron didn't break the silence, just turned to look at the grimy cell wall, foot tapping ceaselessly as he waited for the next question below Isaac's scrutinizing gaze. Aaron wished he knew what they guy was thinking about, just what he was assessing when- those words made him turn around instantly. Shit. A cold shiver ran down his back, the hair at the back of his neck standing up straight. Old instincts and heightened senses for danger. Isaac had seen through his lie, through Aaron, so easily. Recognition. That was what he'd implied. Can't shit a shitter.

Aaron met Isaac's scrutinizing gaze. The biblical name probably wasn't a coincidence. It tugged at memory strings, a story he'd been told for most of his life. "I was raised religiously. I guess you too." Aaron had stopped tapping his foot. He'd been caught in a lie, and he didn't want to make it worse. "I was raised in a town called Ark. Not where I was born, but my family moved there. They were big, on faith and Church Law." An understatement, but the truth. "I haven't lived there in a long time. So it's not really where I'm from."

[isaacapatow]

"Ahhhh, bunches." Ike waved a hand, all-encompassing. "Romantical kinds, family kinds, platonic kinds. Probably some long-lost enemies in there too, I don't always pay the closest attention to whatever Melrose Place level bullcrap's going on betwixt and between people here. Just poke anybody a little bit and it'll come spilling out." Ike cocked a glance at Lucy. "C'mon, you don't want the cheat sheet for real, do you? Where's your sense of curiosity and adventure? The adventure comes in when people throw tin cans at you for being nosy."

He was still snickering at himself as Lucy began explaining her naming situation, the first part of it making more sense than Ike was starting to expect from her before it devolved once more into seeming code, or gibberish, or Lucy conducting her conversations half in her head and half aloud, or perhaps half with a ghost of something. Somebody. "Gear fab," Ike said, blithely and unwittingly contributing to the confusion.

He shifted around in his seat when Lucy asked, with that unsettlingly direct stare, about the bridges he'd burned. "They had to be," Ike settled on. "For everyone's safety. It was that kind of thing."

But it wasn't fair. How many times had she cried that in her youth? Had that conversation with the kids? Not one person ever promised fair - or just for that matter. For all the raging against it, the light still died.

Instead of voicing any of that, Lucy just saluted Ike, speaking around the apple. "Yessir."

She snorted at his sarcasm, not bothering to explain statistics, and then sat up a little straighter. "Wait, like what kind of linkups did I miss?" The question was posed the way someone starting a show three seasons in would ask for a synopsis.

"Mm-" She shook her head, holding up a finger to bid him wait. "Still Bell, but that's Mom's. And Lucy was for The Beatles. Mom's like that - the born-too-late hippy shtick. Beaded curtains, astrology, My Guitar Gently Weeps Along the Watchtower..." If Lucy noticed her use of present tense, she didn't mention it. "It's the middle name she gave to Popsicle, and you're not an Archer."

Ooh, another tell. It mattered and didn't, but it was a curiosity for the moment. Ike was a curiosity for the moment. "Oh... Bridge fully burned?"