shatterverse | (no subject)

(no subject)

Jack returned to Metropolis without really thinking about it, then decided that he had no real reason to, and didn't feel like doing anything in there, particularly.

So he parked on an empty road in the outskirts, and proceeded to sit in the back of the Coraline and drink.

Mind you, it's not really Jack anymore. The skirt and bare head aren't really Jack-things, and the singing is very definitely a woman's voice.

Tipsy and maudling, Ruth Hollins sings to honour her dead lover.

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That's the sort of going-on that's hard to miss, if you're out and about within hearing distance.

Why Rachel is out and about within hearing distance and fully human, much less fully dressed over her morphing suit this far outside of Metropolis is, perhaps, up to questioning.

(where 'fully dressed' can be translated as jeans, t-shirt, and flip-flops all slightly dirt-covered, as if she might have been lying in a field all day.)

She's focused on passing right by but it's hard not to stare at someone in a truck like that, singing like that. And the truck looks familiar anyway.

Ruth is as close as she might be in being preoccupied with her own misery, but that's still not very much, being who she is.

She looks up as Rachel nears and her mouth smiles, though red eyes belay that falsehood.

"Good morn'."

That phrase sounds familiar, too. Rachel frowns but still walks closer, until she's close enough to really recognize the face framed by long hair, letting out the gentle high voice.

"Jack?"

The sad smile spreads quickly into sheepish grin, that does spread to her eyes that time.

"Aye," she says. "Caught in my lie. How fare you, Rachel?"

Rachel's a progressive enough girl for a teenager in the 90s, living on the California coast. It's not really weird to see someone who's crossdressing.

It's just... now that she's looking at Jack, she's not sure if he's crossdressing now... or if she's always been crossdressing before.

There's a somewhat confused looking woman stopping beside the Coraline, looking up at him. "Uh, good. Thanks. You?"

"I have been drinking," is the slightly slurred answer. "It's a wake, of a sort."

That should explain a few things, really. But something about Jack's appearance, choice of words, and expression is leaving Rachel confused.

Like what mourning has to do with wearing a skirt and singing in the back of a truck.

"I'm... sorry."

It's what you say when people lose someone.

"Thank you."

Well, singing is just what happens with mourning, really. The skirt...

- well, Iris loved Ruth.

Which she really ought to explain.

"Ruth," is offered, and she points at herself.

Rachel blinks, surprised at the introduction. And-- still not entirely sure which one was the costume. Ruth or Jack.

She thinks about this for a moment, gaze dropping to the ground. And, with a small shrug, looks up to meet Ruth's gaze with her own, even.

And offers her hand - somewhere along the way of meeting and knowing Jack, she'd never done that.

"Rachel."

"That, I know," she points out, but she takes the hand anyway.

"I'm still myself."

"Well, you're looking a little different today," Rachel points out, shaking the hand. Her eyes drop to the outfit and she nods appreciatively. "Nice skirt."

This isn't the highest compliment Rachel can pay, but it's right up there.

"Thank you for that," she says with a grin. "Everyone's always surprised I present well."

Rachel shrugs, adding matter-of-fact, "I'm surprised you're presenting. That you're doing it well is a point in your favor."

Another smirk, conceding the point. "Iris liked it."

Rachel lifts an eyebrow.

"For whom the wake," she explains.

Blue eyes widen slightly and Rachel nods, slow. Uncomfortable with responses, but not the topic of death. Just-- not entirely sure what to do with a mourner.

"...you all right?" she asks, tone slightly gruff.

"Nay," Ruth says, quietly.

"Though I shall be."

Another nod.

Weight shifted from side to side, only slightly but enough to notice.

"Do you need anything?"

"Nay," Ruth says, and shoots Rachel a small, genuine smile. "Though I thank you for the offer."

Rachel shrugs, though the gesture is awkward. She catches herself in the middle of it, the automatic response of a child and tries to stop it. It only seems to heighten her discomfort.

She nods instead, finding that to be more gracious, and says quietly, "I should get going."

"Aye."

Ruth certainly doesn't begrudge her that. She adds, quickly, though: "Seen you Jo since Christmas?"

"Once."

For a conversation that was more uncomfortable than anything else. But now that the name's been planted and Rachel realizes exactly how long it's been since she spoke to Jo, she fixes Ruth with a worried frown. "Why?"

"I have not," is the reply.

"Things took me away. I shall see her soon."

"Oh."

Jo might be worse, might be better. Rachel hasn't had time to check. Maybe that makes her a bad friend, but there had been other things, distractions. Things she thinks Jo might forgive.

Maybe.

Rachel shifts, gaze now drawn down the main road that leads back to Metropolis. "She'd probably like that."

Ruth nods. Though she also rubs a tear away from her eye.

"I know I shall."

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