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 Jeff

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Loreic
Dunsparce vs Slowpoke
Loreic


Number of posts : 892
Age : 31
Location : All the little angels rise up, rise up.
Registration date : 2008-08-09

Jeff - Page 2 Empty
PostSubject: Re: Jeff   Jeff - Page 2 I_icon_minitimeWed Apr 21, 2010 5:58 pm

Chapter Four
Trucker Man

Solah, the star Rylon revolved around, beat down on the Grange with more enthusiasm then usual, and that's saying something. Sir Jeff walked on with a strange feeling that it was indeed possible for a brain to melt. He looked over his shoulder at Hesta, who was calmly reading the map. It wasn't fair, he thought, Hesta needs to drink water and I'm the one dehydrating. He turned his gaze back ahead, blinked a moment, then rubbed his eyes.

“Hey Hesta?” he called

“What?” She stopped when she reached his side.

“Is there a truck over there, or I just seeing another mirage?

“Nope, it's real alright, besides, all the mirages you've see so far have been more interesting, like the handstand clown made of frozen gelatin.”

“Ugh, don't remind me.” He looked out into the distance again, “sure it's real?”

“Yes, yes I am.” The truck, from how Sir Jeff could make it, wasn't moving. Calling it parked wouldn't be right, it just seemed like the environment was parked under it. It was also bigger then any of the transportation trucks the knight had seen yet, it's cargo hold was large enough to hold four elephants, uncomfortably. “Well, a truck that big has to have a driver, come on, he may have some water and I'm dieing of thirst.” Sir Jeff let her pass him.

You don't look thirsty damn it, he thought. She took a glance behind her shoulder and the knight upped his pace, it was his job to keep her safe, she was the employer, and he the employee.

The truck looked even bigger up close, didn't help that Hesta and Sir Jeff were so small. Hesta studied the door for a bit, climbed up next to it, and gave it a good kick. She waited for a response, and then kicked again, nothing. Just as she delivered a third kick the door was flung open, pushing Hesta to the ground, the knight rushed over to help her up. She dusted off his suit and looked up, the one who opened the door was standing right outside it now.

It was a thin man, but not in the bones showing way, his bones must have been that much thinner, and was shortish, maybe five feet four tops. He wore lose jeans, lighter blue then the sky, and a winkled white tie-shirt. The man was considerably tan, hair hair barely managed to be darker. He had a pair of sunglasses on.

“What? The man said. Hesta wasn't happy, no one flung onto the ground while readying to hit something was.

“Don't give me that, you filthy Granci,” she barked, “you opened that door on me!” The man took some time cleaning out his ear with his pinkie before answering.

“So, isn't that what you wanted,” he stated, “gremlin.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, his took one out and casually lit it. As if by some natural instinct shared by smokers everywhere, Hesta pulled a cigar from her suit coat and also lit it.

“I just thought there'd be some courtesy, some respect,” she said mildly.

“You don't give the rats manners, you give them some cheese and shoo then off,” he responded. Sir Jeff was confused, he didn't like it when people talked in metaphors.

“What?” the knight said.

“Never mind that,” she said to Sir Jeff.

“Never mind what?” asked the truck man.

“Not you, him,”hesta pointed her thumb to Sir Jeff, who was besides her, “guy can only communicate jabber fish style, no mouth.

“Well, saw that,” the truck man rubbed his bristly chin, “thought he wasn't a thinker either, though.” Rage bloomed on the knight's face, he rolled up his sleeves and unsheathed his sword. He glared.

“He he didn't like that comment,” Hesta explained.

“Huh, didn't notice,” the truck man said. He hopped off the door step and kicked the knight to the side like one would a lawn gnome. “So gremlin, whats' it you want.”

“Well, some water water would be nice,” Hesta took a puff from her cigar.

“and.” the trucker man said.”

“and?”

“And, as it 'and I'd like two barrels of oil, cheep, cus you Granci know nuttn' about what's a thing worth.” He took a puff from his own cigarette, “I'm I right?”

“Oil? Why I'm shocked you'd think I'd ask such a thing!” Hesta walked back and put a hand over her mouth in mock surprise, “I'd have no way to transport it!” The trucker man rubbed the back of his head in thought.

“What about him?” he pointed to Sir Jeff.

“He's not some super strength mini-mule,” she looked over to her employee, “get up, doesn't do you god to lay around. The knight pushed himself up from the ground, and slumped onto his rump. “Stand up Jeff.” His face became cross as he got up from the ground, he aimed his glare at the truck man.

“So, just water?” the man said as he ignored Sir Jeff, “I could even put it in a water skin, just for ya little rodents.” The man began to walked to the back of his truck.

“What is his problem?” Sir Jeff asked Hesta.

“Guess that's kinda a complex answer with a simple shell.

“Tell anyway.”

“Everyone.”

“What?”

“Well, you see Jeff,” the knight got an angry twitch, “the Granci were the first guy around here, about, say, a really long time before anybody else. They were nomads, then eventually made mud homes and farmed.” Sir Jeff looked to the ground, it looked unfarmable.

“Farm?” he asked.

“Yes, potatoes, real deep ones, anyway. Then people started moving here, wars and stuff leaving then homeless, couldn't figure out squat 'bout living here, so the Granci taught them. For some reason soon after, hey decided to become nomads again, but with trucks now.

“Sounds like nonsense,” the knight spoke, “you need lot's of oil to do th-” Sir Jeff stopped when a thought bubbled into his head, “he assumed you wanted oil.”

“Truth be told I would, if I could transport it.”

“These guys have a lot of oil?” Hesta's face was still as a statue.

“Well.. yes,” she said. It was the first time the knight had heard uncertainty in Hesta's voice. “but we don't know how, or where, they just seem to, well, have it.” Sir Jeff was about to press the question more when he saw the truck man walking back. He gesture for Hesta to turnaround.

“Here's your damned water, have fun travels,” said the truck man, he tossed the water skin to Hesta. She put out her cigar and took a deep swig from the skin, then topped it for later. She didn't move.

“Well?” asked the truck ma.

“Say...”

“Ah, here we go.”

“We have somewhere to get to, now you don't necessarily have to, but, you know how things are,” he looked over to Sir Jeff, who picked up the queue quickly. The truck man looked at the sword and nodded.

“Alright, I get you,” he went to climb back into his van, “where you headed to?” Hesta retrieved the map from her coat and handed it over.

“Just follow that map and it'll all be good,” she grinned. The truck man read the map and nodded occasionally.

“Ah, now, I see what you're up to. You want to pay him a visit,” he took a puff from his cigarette, “part of his group, eh?”

“No, simply business, I assure you,” Hesta said earnestly.

“Well, I know what business he's in. Fine, get in the passenger side, it'll fit you two smalls.” The truck man put out his cigarette on the side of the van and stuck it behind his ear. Hesta walked around front of the van and climbed the step to the door, Sir Jeff followed.

It was two hours later, the van hadn't moved a bit.

“Are we going or not?” Hesta said to the man, he was fiddling with some mechanical part that must have once been part of the engine.

“Huh?” he looked up, “oh, no, you travel at night, you'll fall asleep if you try to driver in this heat.
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