🎉 TANABATA FESTIVAL 🎊

[eyescar]

WHO: Everyone in Neo Tokyo
WHAT: Tanabata festival! 🎉
WHERE: In the centre of the park
WHEN: 17/07 onwards
WARNINGS: N/A

NEO TOKYO TANABATA

aka operation festival funtime

As the middle of July opens, the streets outside of Neo Tokyo seem to get decorated almost overnight. Colourful origami banners hang from the trees, a mixture of tanzaku, kamigoromo, orizuru and toami.

For anyone who has been to the Sendai region in the midst of the Summer months, the decorations will look almost endearingly familiar; it's time for tanabata!

▶ 001. OPERATION: FESTIVAL FUNTIME.

The savvier of people might notice a particularly bright shock of pink hair running around in the early hours of the morning, taking part in setting up the decorations and putting together a basic layout of tables with tablecloths and various goods and prizes. Each decoration is hand made, and if you look closely you might see little golden traces throughout, giving a clue to who helped made these ones. There's something infectious about his enthusiasm and the delight, even as he gets a little more tired as the day goes on - there's nothing stopping him. Eventually, his section of the festival is set up; there are various stands, some for making decorations (bamboo branches with ornaments, more paper ornaments, origami, and various other cute and traditional arts and crafts), some space for you to take a break and have a fruity and always non-alcoholic drink and an area with a handsome backdrop for the taking of photos.

He's not alone, though!

Raidou's looking livelier than he has than in the last few weeks. He's helping the festival in an organizational capacity, while Yuji handles most other things. He sets up the stands, moves and directs supplies to the right place, picks out spots for decorations, and makes sure both vendors and visitors have everything they need. If you stop to ask him a question or ask for direction, you get a quick, polite answer before he flits off to the next task.

Once things are running smoothly, you'll find him working at one of the food booths, where he's frying up takoyaki and taiyaki. Raidou couldn't be more in his element - serving up fresh food and treats to the Outsiders and the community. You might even get your food handed to you from him with a smile.

At night, the festival is lit up with fireworks and sparklers throughout, lighting up the sky with explosions of little joy and happiness.

Throughout the festival, you can also get a free bento, delivered to you by a cute looking rabbit. The bentos come in many designs, cute, adorable or precious!

▶ 002. A DREAM IS A WISH.

One of the most exciting aspects of tanabata remains the wish-making. In the set-up for the festival, there are little posters left around near one particular booth (manned by local cryptid Choso) to explain the story of the festival and the meaning that it holds. Alongside it are an almost ridiculous amount of paper strips in various colours, left with some pens and calligraphy brushes for people to pick up and use. A big sign next to it declares the following:

Make a wish! If it's a good one, it might come true!
The directions are clear: write your wish on a strip of paper and hang it on one of the bamboo decorations. The harder you wish, the more likely it is to come true - and there are some prompts for the kind of wishes people could make, just in case you're strapped for ideas:

Academic or work successes

Prosperity or good health

Care and love for family and friends

Success in love or platonic relationships

Fulfilment of a personal goal or ambition

You might notice Yuji watching as you're tying your wishes up... Don't worry about that!

If you require further assistance in your wish-making (or even if you don't at all) Choso seems more than happy to lend a helping hand. When he isn't cutting up paper strips and sorting them out into strangely-organized piles (paper thickness instead of size or colour), he's preparing the calligraphy ink via manual inkstone grinding or offering an absurdly wide variety of coloured (and scented) markers for your convenience.

The strips of wishes can be as decorative or simple as you like, so don't stress about your artistic genius!

( ooc note: If you would like Yuji to take a shot at making your wish come true, please respond to this comment! There will be some RNG "granted wishes" that you can use in your top level and keep as a fond memory, but please note there is only one "granted wish" per character. )

▶ 003. AS THE POETS SAY.

In the centre of the festival, in the midst of a park with vibrant flowers, is a table where Yuji sits for a few hours at a time between breaks. He seems to be practically vibrating out of his seat, and when approached he launches into an explanation of this particular game:

THE SOULMATE GAME!

The aim of the game is simple: you are given a ribbon at random with a number on it. Your mission? Find the person with the matching ribbon within a time limit of an hour and win a special prize. Don't worry though... If you lose, there's a prize for not quite making it within the limit. The festival is meant to be a celebration, after all, and Yuji doesn't want anyone to miss out.

Here's the problem: Yuji isn't making it easy for people to find their soulmate. He's not left a boundary for how far you can go (in case you were tempted to hide...) nor has he done anything to make the festival less distracting. This area is set up with your traditional festival games, such as (fake) goldfish scooping, ring toss and some chairs and tables set out for food and conversation.

To make it worse? Sometimes, Yuji might pop up and give you a hint to go in a particular direction, only for it to be a total red herring. This is definitely fun, isn't it? Who doesn't love a good chase? The problem is...

Will you find your soulmate in time...?

( ooc note: If you would like to win (or lose) at the soulmate game, please respond to this comment! Go ahead and OOCly decide who your character gets paired with and whether or not you win or lose - there are different prizes for each. You can play the soulmate game as many times as you want ICly, but you will only get one prize roll per character! )

▶ 004. TINY FRAGMENTS THAT REMAIN.

NOTE: THIS PROMPT WILL REFER TO THINGS THAT ARE SPOILERS FOR JUJUTSU KAISEN CHAPTER 264 ( refering to Yuji's powers and how he uses them in a fight ).
Here's the thing: Yuji wants everyone to have fun. His dream is that people are able to find some joy and peace in the midst of the darkness of the last few weeks, and so he sinks into something that is familiar to him - cursed energy, and his domain expansion. In the early hours of the second day of his festival, you might catch him making a hand sign before a ripple of powers hits, collecting around the area of the festival like a literal bubble. Anyone on the edge of the bubble will see it like a flickering, semi-transparent void, but there's nothing to worry about... Right?

The power of Yuji's domain expansion is simple enough, in theory: it transports into the memories, digs into the heart of what people want to show. His intention is to share the tanabata of his childhood with the people of Neo Tokyo and spark some joy for the Outsiders who have been through so much. He wants to show them something sweet and nostalgic, but he doesn't quite anticipate the side effect.

Outsiders who end up stepping into Yuji's domain will find themselves able to come face-to-face with their childhood selves, and enjoy the festival together. If they're together with another Outsider, those childhood versions of themselves (shaped in the way they remember themselves rather than how they actually looked!) are visible and shared, like an extension of their thoughts come to life.

It's still tanabata, but this particular part of the festival is influenced by what Yuji remembers from his youth, and Outsiders can find themselves seeing and being able to take part in various activities:

Crayfish catching (try and get the biggest or rarest one!)

Archery (can you beat your friends and get the bullseye?)

Horse riding (and you might hear Yuji commenting on how big their faces are)

Parades (are you going to join in?)

And anything else you can dream up! It's your character's childhood too, right...?

As soon as Yuji realises his mistake (at the end of the day, lost in his own memories) he brings down the domain, but it might be too late for some Outsiders who have come face to face with their more adorable versions. Whoops.

EVENT BREAKDOWN (CLICK TO EXPAND)

1. OPERATION: FESTIVAL FUNTIME: The festival is being set up by Yuji and Raidou, with support from other Outsiders to make decorations. Food and other entertainment is on offer for anyone who attends, but all drinks are non-alcoholic.

2. A DREAM IS A WISH: Outsiders are given the chance to take part in the tanabata tradition of wish making. They can decorate paper with their wish and hang it up in the hope it will come true. Yuji will be granting one wish per outsider.

3. AS THE POETS SAY: The "Soulmate Game" has characters being randomly assigned numbers and tasked with finding their matching pair to win a prize. They have an hour to find their partner and, win or lose, there is a prize for taking part.

4. TINY FRAGMENTS THAT REMAIN: Yuji uses his domain expansion to bring Sendai tanabata to life, that has the accidental side effect of allowing Outsiders to meet and see their childhood selves. It also allows them to visit Sendai itself and take part in some other minigames that are not tanabata related if they want.

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Johnny Silverhand | Cyberpunk 2077

[rebelsamurai]

(OOC: closed starters below! if you want to plot anything, feel free to DM me or contact me at devillady)

Tiny Fragments That Remain (closed to V)

[rebelsamurai]

[While some beloved memories deserve to be remembered, other less happy memories honestly deserve to be forgotten. This is how Johnny feels when he comes across a tiny boy with matted black hair, filthy clothes, a split lip, and bruises. At first, the child didn't notice him since he was preoccupied with something in his small hands. They're bullet casings, little bronze casings of varying sizes. It's unclear how they found the bullet shells, but the child seemed pleased with his discovery.]

This one is from Japan! [The boy squeals in excitement as he holds up the bullet casing to get a better look at it. His left eye is a little swollen, but they can still see, kinda.] That's so far away--

[When the boy notices the tall, dark figure before him, he abruptly stops. He peers up at Johnny with huge brown eyes before quickly scampering away. The child flees, leaving behind the crumpled gunshot shells in his wake.]

...Holy shit.

[Johnny could only stand in shock as he watched the kid take shelter behind an old tree stump. He doesn't know what to say, much less what to think at this point. He's just so stunned.]

[mikoshi]

[ If it were not for the strangeness of the Blackwall and Mikoshi, Vincent would think he's hallucinating.

But he's not. Knows exactly what—no, who—he's seeing without need for an explanation. Always been a perceptive guy in matters of the heart. The details might be lost to him more than he likes, finesse suffering. But this sort of situation? All instinct.

That drive summons forth Vincent's own ghost—a lean boy with huge dark eyes and long curled lashes. His faded army green jumpsuit isn't luxurious, per se, utilitarian synth fabrics meant to resist abuse to the elements. Cropped, pitch black hair now overgrown in messy layers, fingers covered in callouses and cuts. The mien of a child chiseled by hardship yet unbowed by it. ]

I'll go get 'im. [ Says the taller boy with a confident nod. Vincent returns the very same nod. Despite the dispiriting display a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. He remembers doing this occasionally—welcoming the strays who wandered into their clan, helping them come out of their shells, patient knowing what kind of horrors they must've left. His equanimous personality served as a steadying presence to others. ]

Here. [ The boy sets down a bullet casing out of his pocket atop that tree stump. It looks wicked deadly. Threaded with leather cord at its tip, a makeshift necklace. ] Sniper round. Argentina.

[rebelsamurai]

['What the fuck is going on?' Johnny has a burning question in the back of his mind. It's unusual for the rock star to be so quiet, but seeing a younger version of himself rendered him speechless. He feels as if he is in a parallel dimension right now. While everything appears and feels real, Johnny can't help but feel like he's slowly losing his mind.

He feels sick to his stomach. Anxious, even. Just as Johnny tries to brush aside his nervousness, another boy arrives out of nowhere. He looks at the boy with some confusion before taking a close look at the determined glimmer in his eyes.]

That's you? [Johnny asks as he turns to Vince with a look of surprise. Outside of the hazy memories he experienced from Vincent's past, Johnny never really got a good look at Vince at this age. He watches as little Vincent makes his way towards the tree stump with something in his hand. It's one of those brass bullet shells earlier.]

--

Huh? [The smaller boy from earlier peeks out from behind the tree stump, his big brown eyes narrowed in suspicion.] Are-g-tea-na?

[Before collecting the bullet shell, the child hesitates for a moment and stares at the other boy. He stares at him for a long while before finally glancing at the sniper shell. His eyes light up with glee as he sees how large it is.]

IT'S HUGE! [The boy yells as he waves the bullet casing around like a mock wand.] I've never seen one this huge!

[mikoshi]

[ Vincent stopped asking why he's a magnet for weird shit long ago. Even before the entire ordeal with Konpeki Plaza and the Relic, he always felt...liminal. Always caught between cultures, peoples, worlds. The in-between spaces always felt the safest to him for definition was a form of death—stuck as one thing, gaining its advantages but also its limitations. He'd never been keen on limits. ]

Looks like. [ Looks like? Is. Unsure why the answer to Johnny's question is non-committal. Maybe because this is technically not him? It's a memory of a childhood already gone, a glimpse into the past that's marred by the uncertainly of time. Did he actually look like that? He remembers less the appearance (never was a vain man, always more important shit to care about) and more the emotions of that child—so much naivete and hope, the kind only children have lacking the world-weariness of adulthood.

Vincent senses this is unsettling Johnny. How couldn't it? An unspoken thread of trauma he hadn't wanted to pull just yet, a throughput to Johnny's being. Delicate thing, to be handled with the precision of an experienced surgeon.

This place has different ideas, however. ]

--

You can keep it. [ The younger Vincent says, crouched to better watch the other boy's face. Dirty, matted, neglected. ] But you gotta let me clean your face, okay? [ From a side pocket a pack of wet wipes comes out.

(Ah yes, Vincent remembers this, carrying the pack the way the adults carried their iron, running his fingers over their omnipresent weight against his pant leg. Feeling safe, of all things. Handy in the Badlands, where dust caked everything. "Living in the dirt doesn't mean you have to be dirty," his mother used to tease him all the time. Cleanliness was a blessing. Showers will never stop feeling like a luxury to the boy-now-man who grew up in a veritable desert. ]

cw: mentions child abuse & sex trafficking

[rebelsamurai]

[This is kind of cruel in Johnny's opinion. He tried so hard to distance himself from the child he once was to the man he is now only to have his childhood trauma tossed back in his face like day-old trash. It's fucking cruel. Johnny can feel himself quietly spiraling as he watches this skinny little brat with the matted hair.

It's unsettling. Creepy, even. Johnny tenses visibly once he gets a better look at the bruises around the neck of his younger self. He knows how he got those bruises. How could he forget when he was being passed around and forced to do things no child should ever do? Johnny's hands slowly ball into fists.

He's angry. However, the little boy before him seems so happy with his new "toy".]

--

Really?! [The boy inquires with a look of sheer surprise on his face.] You'll really let me keep it just for that?

[It's a no-brainer, right? But the poor kid isn't used to being given free stuff. Usually when adults gave him anything, they always wanted something in return. Sometimes it was easy stuff like cleaning blood off the floor or something menial like fetching his captors more beer. Other times it was...worse. So much worse, especially when it was time for "pictures." Thankfully, there are no adults here. None besides the two weirdo guys nearby, but they seem preoccupied.]

Okay, I don't mind--Hey! [He lets out a giggle once the other boy starts cleaning his face with that wet napkin.] That tickles.

[Despite the two boys seeming close in age appearance-wise, the boy with the black, matted hair seemed so much younger. This is how Johnny was before the nomads took him in.]

[mikoshi]

[ It's not the balled-up fists but the contorted expression in Johnny's face that clues Vincent in as to how much this is affecting him. Seen it before, with Maelstrom. Johnny's surprisingly honest when it comes to his emotions, which can be refreshing in the right circumstances but frightening if one's forced to bear the brunt of his discontent.

Vincent's fingers land atop Johnny's right shoulder, gentle as dandelion fluff. Squeezes softly, kneading the muscle. You're not alone anymore. ]

--

[ The younger Vincent nods gently once more. He was a boy of few words then, preferring action to words. Talk is cheap, the nomads always said, used to getting swindled via the written and spoken word by everyone else. Actions, particularly kept promises and cashed favors, were king.

Humming as he cleans Johnny's dirty face, switching into a familiar earworm of a whistle as he moves downward. Knows exactly what the marks around the other boy's neck mean, the kind of evil shit Raffen did, those sons of bitches. He goes extra slow around the neck, the caked on dirt mixed up with blood proving stubborn. Takes half the pack of wipes to finish the job. ]

Wait. [ Other pocket, the small jar with the tiger on the label. ] S'just medicine. [ Spreads it atop the bruises, slick-shiny camphor and menthol.

(God, he's been using the same formula for decades now. That one was made by the caravan healer with the shaky hands, a Filipina ex-Biotechnica researcher who fell in love with what little remained of America's native plants and joined them all. Vincent never figured out where she was getting the ingredients for her famous balm. Trade, he assumed.) ] The people who hurt you... don't go back to 'em. We'll make 'em go away like we do the Raffen. [ Old enough to know that's a euphemism for kill, young enough to wish more were like that one Raffen who decided to join them instead of fight. People can change, if you give them opportunities to do so.

Naive, maybe. But Vincent needed to believe it then and he does now. ]

cw: mentions of child abuse again

[rebelsamurai]

[Vince is right, he’s not alone anymore. That fleeting touch is enough to drag Johnny out of his hateful thoughts. He holds hatred in his heart for what those monsters did to him. He was only a child back then who could barely count past ten. How was he supposed to survive such blatant abuse? These monsters used to beat him, spit on him, break his bones, and worse. It was a miracle that Johnny survived long enough to be taken by the nomads but even then, his childhood was still chaotic.

However, he’s no longer alone anymore. He has Vincent by his side and that is all that matters at this point. Johnny unclenched his fists as he slowly turned towards V, his eyes wet with unshed tears. Johnny Silverhand doesn’t cry. No, but he feels the weight of his past nonetheless. He reaches for Vincent’s hand and holds it within his ‘ganic hand. Touch means so much more to him now than ever before. Just the feel of those rough cybernetic hands are enough to keep him grounded as the ghost of his past hums merrily with young Vince.]

—

[That catchy little tune is enough to make the boy with matted hair hum in unison. However, he winces a little when the nomad boy starts cleaning the lacerations around his neck. It looks like rope burn or something. The bastards who took him must’ve tried to strangle him to near death with a rope. It was probably for an XBD or something. The poor kid is lucky to still be alive after enduring something like that but despite how tough he seems, he’s still just a child.]

Medicine? [He scrunches up his nose in disgust.] But it stinks! It stinks bad.

[The boy whines as the nomad kid keeps tending to his wounds. While he tries to squirm away from the kid, he eventually gives up trying once the nomad slathers the stinky stuff on him.

The scrawny boy lets out an annoyed huff but keeps silent. That is until the nomad started talking. It’s then that he forgets all about the stinging bruises around his neck.]

Can you make ‘em go away? [Little Johnny asks with a hint of suspicion in his tone. It’s almost like he doesn’t believe him.] How come you can make them go away but I can’t?

[He puffs up his cheeks in anger, those bright brown eyes suddenly filling with anger.]

Prayin’ doesn’t make them go away, cryin’ doesn’t make them go away, and runnin’ away doesn’t make the bad people go away either!

[The boy shouts as he pushes the younger kid away from him. He slides off the tree stump he was sitting on and crouches down behind it, still clutching that empty sniper rifle shell.]

Nothing I do matters. I just wake up with more bruises.

CW: Corpse Talk

[mikoshi]

[ It's hard for Vincent to keep his face neutral, not to roil it with rage. But it won't help Johnny. Someone here needs to be an anchor. Obviously it can't be Johnny. Control yourself. Take only what you need from it.

Inhale, exhale. Timing the squeezes to Johnny's hands with his heartbeat. Watch this unfold, much as he wishes they didn't have to, because it's paramount. Mercy of mercies they're the only ones privy to this scene. As if an echo of the Relic's work, that eerie grinding noise that accompanied whenever his vision glitched and sputtered, RELIC MALFUNCTION DETECTED to follow. ]

--

It'll stop smellin' soon. [ The heat of the Badlands evaporated the smell right off it soon enough. Might take longer here in this milder weather, but it'll go away all the same. ]

'Cause I got a family. [ The boy replies matter-of-factly, as if it were an inevitability, unstoppable as sunrise. ] Can't do this on your own, don't matter how strong you are. [ That's what the uncles and the aunties, the soldiers and the healers all edified whenever he and all the other children hid in the biggest, toughest kombi during Raffen attacks—stick together. Bravery can also be resourcefulness, knowing when to ask for help.

The new kids are like feral kittens, hissing and striking, impotent fury. Scared. They don't actually mean it, only puffing up in hopes they won't get hurt like they have for so long. It takes weeks, months, sometimes years, but no one holds it against them. ] They can't follow us where we go. [ Bargaining in a softer tone, unperturbed by that display of anger as he dusts off his jumpsuit then walking forward, confidently and slowly. Retrieving a plastic bag full of colorful candy stars from another pocket. Holding it towards Little Johnny as if an offering. Who doesn't like sugar? And konpeito's fun, it dyes your tongue. ] We ride all over America. We're too fast and too many. Not even the Raffen can get us.

The last people who did something like that? [ Now crouched next to Little Johnny, the boy points at Johnny's bruises, then looks towards the adults, seeking permission. Vincent simply nods once more, knows where this is going, a lesson he never forgot. ] The adults made them go away forever. [ "Mom, why don't we bury them?" "Because they don't deserve it. Let the vultures have 'em."

Watching the flock pick at the soft jelly of tens of lifeless eyes, Vincent learned that in a just world bad people get bad ends. The Badlands were, more than the settled folk's cities and towns, a simpler place. And in simpler places you reaped what you sowed. ] C'mon. You need a bath. I got an extra jumpsuit you can have.

cw: mentions of psychological torture

[rebelsamurai]

[As painful as it is to watch his younger self right now, Johnny can't help but feel relieved that Vince is here. If he has to relive some of the pain of his past, he'd rather do it with Vincent by his side. Reliving the past is a difficult thing for Johnny to endure alone. It always is. When he was trapped inside the Relic, all he would do is replay the same events over and over again ad nauseam. He would keep replaying Alt's death over and over again until every word he said felt so rehearsed and trite. The same goes for other moments in his life that he kept replaying within his mind like some sick parody, none the wiser about what Arasaka was doing to him.

It was torture, psychological torture, all for the sake of creating Arasaka's latest product. He was just a guinea pig to them, a little lab rat for them to viciously torture for their precious data. However, this is all past him now. Johnny is free, and he has the man standing right next to him to thank for that.]

We would’ve gotten along as kids, huh? [He questions once he sees his younger self peek up at little Vinny with something resembling hope in his eyes. A smile curls onto his lips as he regards the scene before him with a new lens.]

–

Really? [The boy asks with a hint of suspicion in his voice. A part of him doesn't trust the nomad kid. Why? Well, because he learned a long time ago not to trust certain people, but this boy seems nice. His family seems nice too, especially judging from how he talks about them. Johnny never had a family. His father sold him off for just a pack of smokes, and his mother, or who he thought was his mom, would just lay in bed all day like a living corpse. She would stink too of rot and sickness, but Dad never cared. So hearing about a family of nomads who actually care and protect each other from harm sounds so foreign to him.]

People do that? They take care of each other? They fight for each other?

[The questions the boy asked are quickly forgotten by the time Little Vince offers him candy. His eyes widen in pure joy as he dives into that bag of candy stars. He puts a fistful of the colorful sweets into his mouth, snacking on them loudly as if he hasn't tasted something this good in weeks. His tongue and lips are instantly dyed in a swath of colors. He has some blue there, some red, yellow, and even a few hints of green and purple.]

I wanna ride all over America too! [He cheers before reaching for more candy. When the nomad kid sits near him, the little boy flinches a little but then calms down. This kid does not mean him any harm, right? No, he appears friendly, even if Little Johnny doesn't grasp what he says. He stops munching for a bit and looks down at the bruises on his arms. These bruises are nasty. They're all red and blue, with traces of green from sickness. Some of the skin on his arms and wrists is dry and flaky, with blood leaking from it. They serve as a horrific reminder of all the abuse suffered at the hands of people who are unfit to be called men.]

I hope they all go away...forever. [He mutters, attempting to conceal his injured arms beneath the shredded sleeves of his blood-stained shirt. The creeps who kidnapped him used to make him wear long sleeves all the time to conceal the evidence etched into his flesh. They always warned that if too many people noticed, there might be problems.] I never wanna see them again.

Huh? A bath? [The little boy makes a face at the suggestion, but maybe a bath is what he needs.] Baths kinda hurt sometimes.

[mikoshi]

[ Vincent has a fairly good idea of what Arasaka must've done to Johnny's psyche inside the Relic for so many years. Yet another reason why Mikoshi needed to blow the fuck up, all its constructs released to Alt. Better to be part of a whole than descend into madness, reliving the same things, feeling the same feelings, until they meant nothing.

(He wonders if that's ultimately what saved Johnny—his psyche providing a frame for his tattered memories, a tangible anchor. Much as Johnny loved to complain about the forced mind meld, it appeared to provide a stability he lacked for much of his life. Thinks on how it's the memories of his mother the rockerboy dwells on the most.) ]

Yeah, we would've. [ A gentle smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, turning cheekier by the minute. ] Better than when we first met, looks like.

--

Only way to survive on the road. [ Vincent can't imagine a world where people don't do these things. The harshness of the Badlands has a way of carving people down to their true selves. The nomads are good because that means sticking together, and sticking together means survival. The Raffen Shiv are not because they do the opposite—they prey on the weak and innocent, carve them up, toss them aside then move on to the next. They're like swarms of locusts eating up what little there is to go around.

Sees that here, on this boy—his ratty clothes, the purple-yellow bruises. The stink of neglect. The pointless cruelty for someone else's enjoyment. City people are more like the Raffen Shiv than the nomads. ] We're going to Kansas to work the wheat fields. I like the bugs there. [ Biggest beetles and spiders he's ever seen. From yet another pocket he removes a smallish block of clear resin. Inside it, a black-and-white beetle with striking markings. ] This one has funny eyes. Caught it in a forest. [ He sets it on the ground in front of Johnny, then sits down, hugging his knees. ]

You won't see them ever again if you come with us. [ There's been several bad people who'd tried to take back good people who ran off to the clans, but the outcome is always the same—the adults shake them off or tear them apart. No one drives faster or harder than a nomad. No one fights like them either.

(The world was so much more black-and-white then, the grown up Vincent thinks. But that's what safety and love felt like too—knowing exactly who you are, your place in the world, and that people would take care of you unconditionally. His life hasn't been easy, but he'll be forever thankful for the solid foundation his childhood serves as. So many people don't get that.

Like Johnny.) ]

Not this one. You'll just soak. [ Only so much wipes can do. Medicated baths feel nice, clean wounds and get rid of the itchiness and soreness. Makes people stink less too, which can become quickly unbearable when you share close quarters with so many people.

Basic hygiene and disease prevention. Nomads might not smell like flowers and fruits like the hoity-toity corpos who come to swindle them once in a while, but Vincent would rather smell like leather and skin than that chemical falseness the settled folk always bring with them. ] I'll get you a rubber duck.