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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Arnold Schwarzwald" data-source="post: 89893" data-attributes="member: 544">[ATTACH=full]20212[/ATTACH]FIREHOUSE NO. 4Congratulations! [USER=162]@MAGONIA[/USER] , [USER=487]@Suigin Trismegistus[/USER] , and [USER=1]@Amor Fati[/USER] You have an address now.Don't get excited. So does the dump.It's late afternoon in the Chi-Town Burbs and somebody is burning something they absolutely should not be burning. The smoke is green. A man down the street is insisting that means it's working.Behind the rooftops sits Chi-Town. Big black fortress. Lights. Electricity. People who can flush a toilet without making a decision about it first. Must be nice.Out here a guy wants five credits to let you cross a plank over an open sewer. He doesn't own the plank. He's just the largest person currently near it.Welcome to the neighborhood.Firehouse No. 4 sits between a boarded up shop and an apartment building with another apartment building built on top of it. There are people up there. Somebody has put a couch on the roof. Getting it up there probably involved more cooperation than the local government has managed in thirty years.The firehouse is old brick, two stories, and still standing. Have some respect for that. Plenty of buildings around here have given up.Above the garage is a sign.FIREHOUSE NO. 4 RIFT, PEST AND PROBLEM REMOVALUnderneath, in smaller letters:SLIDING SCALE. NO COALITION QUESTIONS ASKED.Somebody has added WE DO NOT WORK FOR FREE.Somebody else has crossed that out and written ASK INSIDE.Management appears divided.The bay door is open about three quarters of the way. There's a pipe propping it up. Do not borrow that pipe. That pipe has a job.Inside is a truck with mismatched tires and a hood held shut by a strap. One door is a different color. The passenger window has been replaced with something that was once part of a shower.There are tools on the workbench. Actual tools. That's promising. There's also a coffee tin full of screws with TEETH written on it.Check before reaching in.Against the wall are old lockers, a battered table, and several chairs gathered from what must have been separate crimes. One has wheels. One has three legs and a brick. The nicest one has a note taped to it.DON'T.No explanation. Your call.The kitchen is through the little door at the back. Two burners work. The tap makes a noise like a man being woken up for an argument. There's food in the cupboard if your definition of food includes checking it first.A pot sits on the stove. Whatever is in it has gone cold. A spoon stands upright in the middle.Upstairs are bunks, blankets, and enough privacy to lie to yourself about having privacy. The bathroom door closes if you lift it. Somebody has thoughtfully left a bucket beneath the leak.There is another bucket inside that bucket.You'll work it out.Out back is a cistern. Every so often something knocks against the inside.Could be a loose fitting.The building has plenty of those.By the garage entrance hangs the job board. Some tickets are old enough that the customers have probably solved the problem, moved away, or become part of it.MISSING CAT.MISSING SECOND CAT.PLEASE STOP TAKING THESE DOWN I AM STILL MISSING TWO CATS.One notice offers payment for removing something from a crawlspace. Under DESCRIPTION the customer has written NO.Another says POSSIBLE VAMPIRE. Someone has penciled beneath it: works nights you stupid bitch.The newest ticket is pinned right in the middle.BAKERY. OVEN PROBLEM. ASK INSIDE BEFORE OPENING IT. PAYMENT AVAILABLE.The words PAYMENT AVAILABLE have been underlined hard enough to tear the paper.Outside, a cart rattles past. Two neighbors are arguing about a stolen extension cord. Somewhere farther off, an engine gets loud and the argument gets quiet.People here know when to lower their voices.The Coalition comes through when it wants something. Papers. Names. Somebody to take away. If the skull helmets turn onto your street, you probably want a better explanation than whatever you were about to say.For now, they aren't here.For now, there's a roof, a place to sleep, and somebody offering money because their oven has become more than they can personally deal with.That's a start.Whatever brought you here, the door is open.Come in. Or show us where you've already made yourself comfortable.What do the others see? What are you wearing? What are you doing?You don't owe the room your life story. You might owe it a chair if you break one.Somebody answer the fucking sign.Into yourself or ask me to do so.</blockquote>

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