Your support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)
A young courier named Connor Legato’s life is celebrated by his grieving friends one week after his death
- Joined
- Sep 7, 2019
- Location
- Jurassic Park
There were many vices to be had in the North Atlantic IceBurgh. It was true that the Bummock (the neighborhood below the water’s surface) wore its sins on its sleeve: under the table gambling, prostitution, and trafficking in junk augmentations, to name a few. Meanwhile, however, on the surface its overly glossy skyscrapers reached to the heavens as the arrogant cities of old had, in the same old scramble for money and status.
Had being the operative word, before the world was finally shaken into action and desperately resettled its stateless refugees here and in other such massive projects, with the goal of constantly refrigerating and reinforcing icebergs and other glaciers to keep the world from flooding any more. And yet Shiloh Mayer, who was decamping with her friends on the top floor of a very much under construction hotel (the sixth one here) never ceased wanting to climb to the top, even in the blasting near-Arctic air, to admire the view at night.
This time, however, as Shiloh had for the past week, she brought a small token- a worn baseball cap that was the last reminder of Connor Floyd, her best friend these past two years. She remembered looking at his gunmetal eyes (which she had in common with him; it was a mutation that was slowly becoming more commonplace, especially among the affluent), his silver alloyed hair (that she shared, although years of hard street living had darkened it with worry and dirt), and wondering if she could be brave enough to see if there was anything more than friendship there. If she could cross the gap she placed every time they sat together. Last week, she was going to finally not be a little chicken shit and ask how he felt (and, more importantly, if she was worthy of the signs he was giving off).
And then he was gone. A single bullet from IceBurgh Resort Security had been enough to snuff out his light. For everything and everyone was technically an employee of the IceBurgh Resort Corporation, even if officially “occupation deficient,” and so its private black ops goons kept them “safe” too. And sometimes decided they weren’t worth the trouble.
“Wish you were here,” Shiloh said now in her light Irish accent, patting the cap from the Before Times that Connor had kept for nearly ten years, since he was 18. A gift from his father. A shard, really. And then she closed her eyes and let the chill fill her lungs. The young transient didn’t care if her tears froze to her face.
Then Erika and Michael plopped themselves on either side of her, Erika snapping Shiloh out of her funk with a pat on the back.
The heavily-tattooed Asian woman then teased her by saying, “Look, I love ya, but can you come inside, Shy? Connor wouldn’t’ve wanted you to freeze your ass off out here. Besides, I rather like your ass where it is.”
Erika’s flirting was usually meant to lightly tease and make the melancholy woman laugh, even though the two women had had sex regularly in those halcyon days when the group just started forming, after Shiloh broke up with her boyfriend Kevin, but before Erika became exclusive with Michael and Shiloh started contemplating interest in Connor.
Shiloh laughed as expected, knowing that Erika wasn’t serious because they were barely keeping from freezing as it was. During the day, their body heat was easily maintained by rooftop parkour while illegally couriering the secrets of the rich, and as much Szechuan food (or other street foods from around the world, such as Latin American shrimp ceviche or Ethopian beyainatu) as they could afford each day. At night, when the temperature could drop precipitously, their limbs were preserved by varying but copious amounts of alcohol, weed, and MDMA; a couple solar-powered space heaters that were left unused by the crew after they left; an open shower that was also supposed to be for the construction workers, but was actually desalinated and heated for four hours each evening whether or not there were people using it, and that no one in the group had a problem with sharing at the same time; and of course, their shared body heat under emergency tarps.
Shiloh had been instrumental in advising Erika, Kevin and Michael about these survival tips when she first linked up with them three years ago, and then keeping the newbie (Connor) safe when he also became a courier two years ago. The Irish girl had learned how to shelter herself the hard way two years prior to meeting any of them, after losing her left arm to a freak blizzard that fucking coincided with the Second Troubles, and spending all the money she inherited from her bullet-riddled parents on a lifetime ticket to the IceBurgh and a cybernetic arm. Thankfully, he'd fit nicely within their group, sans Kevin.
“What she meant to say,” Michael sighed in his deep Haitian voice, wrapping an arm around his friend, who leaned her head on his shoulder, “is that we miss Connor too. But you knew he never liked to see anyone down for long. So let’s live while we’re still alive. That’s why I hope you’ll be cheered by this!”
Michael flourished a yellowing portable DVD player in his hands, along with a couple movies (both items probably reclaimed from some dump, which everybody knew and nobody needed to say), and Shiloh sniffed, “He would’ve loved that.”
“So? How about it? Let’s relax, get jacked out of our minds, and watch some stupid movies.”
“I know what my vote is,” Michael chuckled, then pecked each of his “two best girls,” as he often called them, on the cheek. He would do this to Connor too, and so it had become an expected and welcomed sign of affection. Something resembling normal for the four of them had been built out of little rituals like these.
And now Shiloh felt secure in what remained of her group, who had been there for her long before Connor had arrived and would be there long after he was gone, while they headed back down to the "flat," and prepared to forget their troubles, as well as relieve…stress later. For Shiloh, tonight that would be a solo operation, since she hadn’t been in the mood to have a nameless guest or guests over, and yet she envied that Erika and Michael would join together without a care in the world once the movie was over. If they didn’t fall asleep from the drugs, that is.
Had being the operative word, before the world was finally shaken into action and desperately resettled its stateless refugees here and in other such massive projects, with the goal of constantly refrigerating and reinforcing icebergs and other glaciers to keep the world from flooding any more. And yet Shiloh Mayer, who was decamping with her friends on the top floor of a very much under construction hotel (the sixth one here) never ceased wanting to climb to the top, even in the blasting near-Arctic air, to admire the view at night.
This time, however, as Shiloh had for the past week, she brought a small token- a worn baseball cap that was the last reminder of Connor Floyd, her best friend these past two years. She remembered looking at his gunmetal eyes (which she had in common with him; it was a mutation that was slowly becoming more commonplace, especially among the affluent), his silver alloyed hair (that she shared, although years of hard street living had darkened it with worry and dirt), and wondering if she could be brave enough to see if there was anything more than friendship there. If she could cross the gap she placed every time they sat together. Last week, she was going to finally not be a little chicken shit and ask how he felt (and, more importantly, if she was worthy of the signs he was giving off).
And then he was gone. A single bullet from IceBurgh Resort Security had been enough to snuff out his light. For everything and everyone was technically an employee of the IceBurgh Resort Corporation, even if officially “occupation deficient,” and so its private black ops goons kept them “safe” too. And sometimes decided they weren’t worth the trouble.
“Wish you were here,” Shiloh said now in her light Irish accent, patting the cap from the Before Times that Connor had kept for nearly ten years, since he was 18. A gift from his father. A shard, really. And then she closed her eyes and let the chill fill her lungs. The young transient didn’t care if her tears froze to her face.
Then Erika and Michael plopped themselves on either side of her, Erika snapping Shiloh out of her funk with a pat on the back.
The heavily-tattooed Asian woman then teased her by saying, “Look, I love ya, but can you come inside, Shy? Connor wouldn’t’ve wanted you to freeze your ass off out here. Besides, I rather like your ass where it is.”
Erika’s flirting was usually meant to lightly tease and make the melancholy woman laugh, even though the two women had had sex regularly in those halcyon days when the group just started forming, after Shiloh broke up with her boyfriend Kevin, but before Erika became exclusive with Michael and Shiloh started contemplating interest in Connor.
Shiloh laughed as expected, knowing that Erika wasn’t serious because they were barely keeping from freezing as it was. During the day, their body heat was easily maintained by rooftop parkour while illegally couriering the secrets of the rich, and as much Szechuan food (or other street foods from around the world, such as Latin American shrimp ceviche or Ethopian beyainatu) as they could afford each day. At night, when the temperature could drop precipitously, their limbs were preserved by varying but copious amounts of alcohol, weed, and MDMA; a couple solar-powered space heaters that were left unused by the crew after they left; an open shower that was also supposed to be for the construction workers, but was actually desalinated and heated for four hours each evening whether or not there were people using it, and that no one in the group had a problem with sharing at the same time; and of course, their shared body heat under emergency tarps.
Shiloh had been instrumental in advising Erika, Kevin and Michael about these survival tips when she first linked up with them three years ago, and then keeping the newbie (Connor) safe when he also became a courier two years ago. The Irish girl had learned how to shelter herself the hard way two years prior to meeting any of them, after losing her left arm to a freak blizzard that fucking coincided with the Second Troubles, and spending all the money she inherited from her bullet-riddled parents on a lifetime ticket to the IceBurgh and a cybernetic arm. Thankfully, he'd fit nicely within their group, sans Kevin.
“What she meant to say,” Michael sighed in his deep Haitian voice, wrapping an arm around his friend, who leaned her head on his shoulder, “is that we miss Connor too. But you knew he never liked to see anyone down for long. So let’s live while we’re still alive. That’s why I hope you’ll be cheered by this!”
Michael flourished a yellowing portable DVD player in his hands, along with a couple movies (both items probably reclaimed from some dump, which everybody knew and nobody needed to say), and Shiloh sniffed, “He would’ve loved that.”
“So? How about it? Let’s relax, get jacked out of our minds, and watch some stupid movies.”
“I know what my vote is,” Michael chuckled, then pecked each of his “two best girls,” as he often called them, on the cheek. He would do this to Connor too, and so it had become an expected and welcomed sign of affection. Something resembling normal for the four of them had been built out of little rituals like these.
And now Shiloh felt secure in what remained of her group, who had been there for her long before Connor had arrived and would be there long after he was gone, while they headed back down to the "flat," and prepared to forget their troubles, as well as relieve…stress later. For Shiloh, tonight that would be a solo operation, since she hadn’t been in the mood to have a nameless guest or guests over, and yet she envied that Erika and Michael would join together without a care in the world once the movie was over. If they didn’t fall asleep from the drugs, that is.
Last edited:
