sixthiterationlogs | There were so many times I thought I have died

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There were so many times I thought I have died

WHO: Bobo Del Rey
WHERE: Both North and South Village
WHEN: First few weeks of February after returning
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: Will update if needed

There are so many parts that I have hidden and that I yet lost - Either village, First wk of Feb

Bobo Del Rey is dead. Long live the King.

Much as Bobo rallied himself with the others, almost glad to have found himself with Eddie, Venom and Karen in that hell that passed for a temple - and he's sure there's something in that about religion and belief and faith and facing the truth but fuck all that noise - but just because they're the ones he was with, and therefor cared enough to help, he's caught up in so much more.

Like the fact that he did care about others. It's been so many decades since he's cared, and a lot of torture both given and received, and now he's having to face the truth. He's dead. Except instead of being sucked into Hell for more torture, to be further tormented until the heir died once more as they always did, he is here. There is no return. There is no torture. There's just this, and he's not sure what that means. Not for himself, or the confusion that has been haunting him since this place.

But once they're assured everyone has made it back, and that things are back to normal, Bobo is doing his best to get back to a normal life. When in the southern most village, he works on the butcher shop, trying to pull everything together. Cleaning up the entire shop from top to bottom, turning all of the hides, and working to bottle the ink he'd made from tallow soot, leaving the little bottles on the counter near the soap that Watney made.

When back to the north, he can be found often working on the former police station turned barn where they now houses a myriad of animals, including the new baby groffle that somehow the cowboys had managed to bring back with them after the video. They weren't doing much better than he was, but none of them were talking about it. Instead they kept working.

So he works on splitting logs, and preparing the land to add a pasture to turn them out into until the weather turns and they can take them out further from the village.

There are so many colors that I still try to hide while I paint - Off Color

If Bobo is conflicted over who he is and the man he will be, having a moment of his device going a bit wonky is not going to fix that.

He hasn't bothered himself too much with what the device color means, or about these powers that some speak of possessing. His isn't what he knows as being a revenant, and he's not sure what to think of being given something else, but he knows one thing.

In his mind that change in colors is a possible sign of a weakness that he isn't willing to admit to others. Especially after he finds himself standing in the middle of the butcher shop feeling what he can only describe as sad over the state of the animals in various degrees of death and dismemberment around him.

Ripping up some rag pieces he's kept around into thin strips, he wraps them around is wrists, over the palm of his hand, using them to hide the device, before going about his business. Business that is less the business he's chosen for himself and more spending time seeking out others in the inn. Approaching others if they don't seek him out, quieter and less boisterous than he usually is.

It would seem if the images of his death aren't putting him in mind of his past, and what he might become or refuse to acknowledge, well then the powers that be aren't willing to give him a choice.

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There's a stack of logs to one side, broken down into fireplace size though not split. Not yet. He's just focusing on breaking down the larger trees he's brought back from further out to the North. Working hard to provide wood for himself, for the bakery and the forge. All that he can. Work and try and focus.

Glancing up with a quick startle at the sound of a voice, and then chuckling when he saw Foggy and the animals.

"You are a man that would be revered in my time. A man that returns horses is appreciated." And not murdered because of it. "You're a good man to make that hike for us and help."

"They're not horses. By any stretch of the imagination."

Foggy brings them forward and hand them over. "The chicks lived in the kitchen near the stove to keep them warm. And because my room had a kitten living in it and I wasn't sure how many chicks would survive that. I also fed the salamander a couple of times, just to make sure, but really, Leonardo did the bulk of the looking after. I just walked them over."

He looked up at Bobo. "How are you coping?"

"They're the equivalency of what we have here. Hell, I always thought cars should count the same, and stealing one was a death sentence," he says, shrugging. "How it used to be."

He takes the leads though, moving in to scritch one of them, stroking along the kirin's neck.

"It's a real kitten, right? Or one of those bird things?"

He's seen others with them, after all.

"I'm surviving. I mean, been through worse. It wasn't Hell, after all."

"I'm not a fan of the death penalty. And New York doesn't have it, which is good." He understands there are times it seems like a solution, but he isn't comfortable with giving people that power, the right to decide who lives and who dies.

"It's a real kitten. Lynn. He's a cute little bugger." He slides his hands into his pockets, rocking on his feet. "Yeah, I know, you've been to Hell, nothing compares, but that doesn't make it easy or not traumatic. Trauma is trauma. So how are you doing?"

"In the time I'm talking about taking a man's horse was a death sentence. And it was big business. Had to do something to stop it," he says. "But then there's a lot that involved just killing people in that time." As well he knew.

"Huh. Hadn't know there were any, so that's good to know," he says with a nod. Though he can't help but to laugh at that reaction.

"It makes it easy though. You just focus on that and nothing else is as bad," he says, sighing as he moves to head for the police station to get the kirin settled in, assuming that Foggy will follow. "So apparently? I'm a dead man. Shot and condemned back to Hell instead of being tortured on Earth."

"I know, I know. I still don't like it. On principle."

Foggy does follow, expression briefly pained. "I'm sorry. I am so sorry. I can't begin to imagine."

He doesn't know what else to say.

He chuckles in a low voice. "Be thankful you never had to deal with it. I know exactly the man you would have been, and they would have eaten you alive." Just as they had Robert.

"Yeah, me either. I've managed to avoid that fate longer than any other revenant has. And worse? If I had stayed there, I would have been happy for it." Without Willa, taken in by Black Badge, but... "I have here now, and I'm glad for that."

"Bobo, for all my squishy deliciousness, remember that I am a high paid, corporate defence lawyer." Foggy smiles. "I'm not saying I could survive what you went through, but I'm not as breakable as you think. I promise."

They all have here and now. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I'm saying men like Doc Holliday and Wyatt Earp loved eating good men alive," he says, tones bitter in that moment. "It's nothing to do with thinking you're weak. And..." He stops himself, not looking at Foggy though as he considers his words. "I know you would survive, because I was much more like you than I was like them before Hell. And I survived, didn't I?"

And he believes that. In so many ways.

"Help me get the chicks out of the box and settled in? We built up the corner for them," he says, the inside of the "barn" set up with areas for stalls, as well as a coop without a roof. Not yet.

"I'm not a good man, Bobo. When the going gets tough, I promise you, I walk away." Not exactly his proudest trait, but an honest one.

"Yeah, sure. They didn't get a lot of space in the Inn. I kept them in Karen's room, don't tell her, please."

He glances back at him, arching a brow. "You think that makes you a bad man?" He's truly confused by that given the things he's seen from so many in his time. "That makes you a survivalist, Foggy, not a bad man."

And he truly believes that, though he pauses and then laughs at that.

"Karen is a strong woman, but I'll keep this secret for you." Maybe. He's amused though.

"Yes. I gave up on my best friend." He picks up one of the chicks carefully, nestling it in against his chest. "Still, we made do, didn't we? Blocked off an area so you didn't run around in the wild."

Bobo pauses at that, turning to look at Foggy, frowning. "Explain to me, Foggy. Explain about this giving up?"

Because he knows he's not the best judge of character, but that is hitting a bit close to home depending on what truly happened."

Foggy is very quiet, petting the chick on the top of its little fuzzy head. "I can't. I'm sorry. Not in a way that makes sense. There's secrets involved that aren't mine. I can't give those things away. But... I don't know. I'm a bit messed up by it all."

"Did you do it to watch them fall in ruin? Did you do it to save yourself and let them burn?" He asks it nearly casually as he sets up the kirin in their "stalls", moving to get the cut long grass they had left to cure for their meals.

"It wasn't Karen, was it?" His voice a bit of a growl then, glancing at Foggy as his eyes narrow.

"No, of course not. I just... couldn't do it anymore." He burned out. Or burned up. Something like that.

"No, not Karen. Karen was on the periphery of the whole thing, being as how she worked for me and Matt at the time. It was Matt. Most of my life statements involving someone else will come back to Matt."

"And you think that makes you a bad man?" He turns to face Foggy, moving with slow steps to where he was, head canting, staring at him. "You actually believe that, don't you?" And he looks utterly confused by that. "You think you did something wrong?" He asks it but there's a statement to it as he gestures at him.

"Though I'm glad it's not Karen," he says. "I like you too much to hurt you for that," he says, smirking a bit though it's probably not entirely a joke. With Bobo it's not always easy to know.

"I'm not telling you everything about it. There's a lot of context missing. I told you that." He can't spill Matt's secrets. Or Elektra's.

He sets down the chick he was holding into the pen and goes for another. "I gave up on a friend. Possibly when he needed me most. I won't let myself do that again. And frankly, Karen doesn't need you defending her, she'll do it just fine on her own. I promise." The response could also be a joke. It might not be.

He holds up both in "surrender". "Fine, I'll take your word for it," he says, shaking his head. "You're a monster." So says the monster.

"And I'm not defending her. Please. Trust me," he says, thinking about what he's seen. "She's a fucking bad ass. She's got things handled herself," he says, smirking. "So, want to see the new thing the cowboys brought home?"

"You know there's middle ground between 'angel' and 'monster', right? Like, not a great guy at times. Or pretty good person who occasionally does shitty stuff. Or person put in goddamn awful situation."

Foggy nods, because Bobo's assessment of Karen is accurate. "Sure! Is it going to try and eat me?"

"I never said you were an angel. I said you were a good man, and you argued with me," he points out. "I know angels. I've known a few in my life. Couple literal. A couple just good kids," he says. Well kid, in the case of Rinoa. "You seemed to want me to see you in a bad light," he says, shrugging as he moves towards the door that separates the sheriff's office from the main jail room.

He opens the door and out ambles a gangly-ish groffle calf, all large nose, and bud horns and clattering hooves as he rambles out.

Edited 2019-02-17 04:35 (UTC)

"I don't feel like a good man. I feel like a self interested one.... oh, that is so cute."

Foggy set down the chick in the pen and turned his attention to the calf, offering out a hand to it. "Hello there, you ridiculous creature. Aren't you wonderfully silly."

"Nothing wrong with that," Bobo says, though of course he feels that way.

He's more than amused though by the calf coming over and snuffling at Foggy's hand.

"The books at the inns talk about them being about like bison or so, but we'll see how it ends up."

Foggy is enthusiastically rubbing and scritching the calf around its nubbins and ears. "So this little fella could be growing into a giant?"

And he is loving it. Tongue lolling, leaning into Foggy eagerly.

"Supposedly. I didn't see them. They touched a fox, I guess? And next thing they knew, they were in the middle of nowhere else, and found him. But the inn has notes on them and they're pretty big."

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