Sipp Morning (H 1.4)

Nuport's words strike my heart more directly than her finger jabbing into my chest does. My lips part but no air moves between them. My body is as stony and silent as a corpse.

After a few breathless moments pass, my voice finally returns to me, "I didn't make you kill him! He was my friend. I don't control the voices any more than you do!" I raise a hand, gesturing vaguely to the air around my head. "They're the ones who are in control here."

The blood in my body is dangerously close to my skin, vulnerable to the most innocuous of attacks, and Nuport's attacks are anything but innocuous.

"They said that they like me," I answer, my voice just above a whisper. "They've sent people to save me before. This time, they sent you." I swallow. "But I'm sure you could kill me, if you wanted to. They probably wouldn't stop screaming at you about it after, though. Ever."

It's hard to look away from the hideous harm hewn across Harpy - now Nuport's - face. Her confession about her coming to communicate with the Whispers and killing Condor confirms the question that once lingered in my mind. She looks different, behaves even more differently, but this is the Talon I once saw with Litch and his crew. It's a sobering reminder about how far someone can fall, and how quickly.

I straighten from where I'd been leaning back against the sink in a feeble attempt to get away from her, swallowing before I say, "They came to me in a storm. I was locked on a rooftop without cover, and I couldn't escape the swirling maelstrom above. When the storm cleared, instead of being dead like I should have been, I had the Whispers." I shuffle a step toward the door. "I guess I'm lucky that I was young enough that I didn't have anyone to love yet, and they haven't let me love anyone since." Another shuffle. "It's too hard to get close when the Whispers want to invade their mind." I push away the memory of the last person I tried to get close to, and how seeing his fear in my mind in the midst of our tryst had me kicking him out of my apartment with his pants in his hands. I touch the handle of the door. "Thank you for coming to save me." I'm about to leave, but then I can't help but ask, "Did you kill him? Karo, I mean?"

I watch Nuport step back into the tub wondering if the Whispers would ever bring me to such a lowly state, or if Nuport did that to herself when she killed Condor. But even though I can leave this room, I have chains of my own. If I didn't, I wouldn't be here right now.

After a few quiet moments, I say softly, "Me too." I slip out the door, still alive at least.

You step out of Nuport's bathroom into the working level of the Sippians' gang to see a number of Sipps - mostly men - grabbing weapons from a locked cabinet and heading for the hallway. They aren't on alert, it doesn't seem. Aren't heading out to repel invaders or anything. But they are heading somewhere. The sun bleeds through the broken walls to the outside and you hear the sounds of boats and jet skis revving up.

There is a dozen folk still here in the three conjoined rooms with little walls to keep them distinctly three-room-like. You recognize Hedges from breakfast - he's chatting and flirting badly with a Librarian named Pellet. Pall Mall is pulling in the fishing lines and rods and working on making sure they're in good order. Bristol is having a smoke on a balcony and watching whatever's happening outside.

What do you do?

My eyes skip around the room, each picture they peruse another portrait I have no desire to populate. After my conversation with Bristol on the couch, where she reminded me of my place, I'm not eager to return to her side even if I am curious about what's going on below. Pall Mall is likely to pull me into a bunch of work I don't want to get involved with, and will probably chew me out about letting Karo drop his fishing rod into the waters earlier. Or Hedges, the brother of the man who spent this morning calling me a tralk and a stupid cow for bringing him water five seconds after everyone else.

After such a bad outcome with Karo and such a risky situation with Nuport, I'm more hesitant to rush into anything. Instead, I hang back, surveying the room before doing anything more.

You scan the rooms and realize Pall Mall is the biggest threat to you. If she sees you chatting or hanging out in a casual way while she's working, she'll throw you into some horrid chore. So if you're going to do anything other than offer to help her, you need to do it like you've been ordered to do it.

What do you do?

My back straightens when I realize what Pall Mall might see if I'm not careful. I take a breath, then head resolutely toward Hedges and Pellet. I've liked the Librarians when I've crossed paths with them, and I relish a little reprieve from the Sippians. Perhaps Pellet would be pleased for an escape from Hedges' flirtation too. I walk over to them like they're a table I've just been assigned to.

"You're a Librarian, right?" I ask when I reach them, trying to make my tone deliberate and polite, though I offer no smile of greeting.

"I'm not," I tell her without additional explanation.

I glance at her outstretched hand for a beat before I shake it. "I've been told I should make sure you're comfortable while you're here. If you need anything - a drink, a chair, some fresh air among the gardens on the roof - just let me know." I offer the roof more description, hoping she'll choose that so I have the excuse for going myself. It's like pushing a special at the Belly - name it last and give it flair, that's what Blackjack says.

I resist the instinct to pull back from Pellet's protracted touch, not wanting to give her any reason to retract her interest in the roof. She sends Hedges off for whatever ganja is, and I find myself wondering if he'll resent me for interrupting later.

Pellet talks enough for both of us as I lead her over to the elevator to climb up, and I'm grateful for that, but I'm also uncomfortable hearing her speculate on the facts of my life and person. The corners of my mouth turn down just slightly when she mentions the storms.

"Everyone is quiet compared to Peppering, so I'm not sure that's saying much." I gesture for her to climb up first, then try to shift subjects away from me. "What brings you here today?"

Maybe Pellet never noticed how loud Peppering is because she was too busy talking herself, I think as I climb up after her. When I notice her struggles, I feel my old Ivy instincts kicking in and I prepare to hold myself firmly to the ladder if she comes crashing down on top of me. I should probably also try to catch her, in this case.

I pause when we reach the floor above, giving her a moment to catch her breath which she quickly utilizes to keep talking. She's here to get high? I wonder if that makes her a customer or if she and Hedges have some sort of relationship. I'm not even certain if dating outside the gang is allowed. Maybe if it were serious, they'd have to discuss bringing the lover in.

"No," I answer her about problems at the Belly. "I still work there too. This is a temporary arrangement." I don't want her to know I'm here as a slave, though I'm sure it will unavoidably come out at some point. The longer I can dodge that particular blade, though, I will. "This way." I lead her over to the roof access, the same path Lucky Strike took me on this morning when he laid down my ultimatum. "We don't want to miss everyone sailing off." I use the same phrase she did earlier with Hedges, though I haven't a clue what it means. It didn't seem like the Sippians were in a rush to leave, but something is obviously happening. Maybe they do this all the time - patrols or something of that ilk.

As Pellet prattles on, you watch as dozens of rowboats, skiffs, jet skis, and all manner of vessels depart the Car Lyle docks in all directions. It reminds you of a hive of bees spreading out to seek out flowers. Lucky Strike is at behind the wheel of a yacht with armor plating bolted on the sides.