Dryson and Addy: Sept 18th, 2254
This is an IM-RP that was done prior to the opening of Seeds. This takes place just before the opening of the RP and before the destruction of the power plant.
Talkris: *It was still early, though, within the confines of the Lower City, it was sometimes difficult to tell. It had been raining above, the filthy street water coming down through the drains above and onto the Lowers below. Wearing his red hoodie so as not to stand out as much, he walked through the streets until he saw an old run down bar, He looked at the sign* Hmm, perhaps she's here... *In his left hand he carried a small brown bag, with his right he pushed gently on the door to the bar. The hinges creaking, it opened. He looked inside with his one fiery eye, and saw a her at the bar. He sighed the slightest bit as the emotion in that eye softened. He slowly entered the shack of a bar. Inside was a wreck. More tables on their side with legs broken then actually functioning. Only three others in the bar, each keeping to themselves. The lights flickered above as a few drips of water came down from the ceiling into assorted buckets scattered about the uneven and rotting floor. Even the bartender was filthy and unshaven, a gruff expression on his face and a mean demeanor. The man watched as Dryson drifted across the floor, each step making the floor creak in various tones. The bandaged leader of the Locusts faction walked next to the emaciated woman at the bar. He saw a few empty glasses scattered about, not sure which belonged to her and which were just left there. He placed his right arm around her back, careful not to make physical contact, but still using the reassuring gesture. He felt an odd kinship with her, he always had. It could have been that they were so close in age and a mere generation apart, or it could have been how she suffered so, just as he, himself, did everyday. He brought the brown bag in front of her and placed it the bar. "I have a gift for you, Addy." If she were to open the bag, she would find her on favorite sandwich wrapped in wax paper.
Filiadorma: Addy sat. She hated this particular bar. The bartender never smiled, and always had a stench about him of a mixture of rotten cheese, stale beer, and body odor. However, since it was raining she had given into her impulse to come in here instead of walking another filthy rain soaked three blocks to The Wall. she now sat with her eyes closed staring blankly at the glasses in front of her, watching as she drained each one how the clear gin made tiny swirls down the insides and how her hands left smudges on the outsides where she gripped them. The bartender had long since given up on taking away the glasses, he probably figured it was just easier to let them accumulate, she was the best business he's had in a long time and he didn't feel like wiping out the glasses with his grimy rag. Her contempt for him lifted another notch as he slid her fifth watery gin and tonic across the expanse of the counter. She had just taken a sip when she felt the air of the bar shift as someone else walked in. She closed her eyes and swallowed faster, willing her powers to leave her alone. She didn't need anyone else's nose to tell her exactly how offensive this place was. And she really was just tired of having other people's minds explaining her surroundings to her. She felt the floor vibrate under the rickety legs of her barstool as she slowly let the gin wash through her system. Her mind slipped another two degrees towards numb and she almost smiled. She felt the stranger brush up against her and closed her eyes again, her hand clutching convulsively around her now half empty glass. she opened her eyes to stare at the plain paper bag sitting on the layers of filth on the bar. she turned her head ever so slightly and her raspy voice croaked out of her sore throat, rough from lack of use; Dryson...what now?
Talkris: *He took a seat next to her and leaned on his forearms on the dirty bar, not caring that the red of his hoodie now had more dirt on it. From under the hood peer his single eye.* I've been looking for you for hours. Why did you come here and not The Hole in the Wall? *He assumed that it was because she didn't want to ee the others. He knew she didn't ask for what she was, nor her abilities. Just like himself, she was also a tool. A weapon for war. Sometimes he hated the Locusts as well, but it was the only family he had ever known, any of them had ever known. He coughed a few times into a clenched fist, his eye shutting tightly as the pain in his chest made itself known once again. He reached down and grabbed one of the syringes from the holster on his leg. He looked at the point of the needle for a second, watching at the light seemed to dance along the metal mockingly. He placed the tip against the main artery in his neck and pressed it in. The blue fluid inside surged into his blood stream. His free hand twitched ever so slightly and he removed the needle and placed the empty cartridge back into its holster. "I was worried about you. We thought you may have been captured."
Filiadorma: She sighed. She could feel his pain like a an open wound on her mind, but she took it. she clutched at her glass and fought to keep her own emotions steady, the last thing she needed was to overwhelm her system with her own agony as well as his. As the meds washed through his system she felt their fiery burn in her own veins and took another quick swallow of gin. "It was wet, I was out of tequila, and this place was closer." she remembered finishing with the locusts earlier that morning. They had sobered her up and turned her loose on one of the doctors from the institute. She had stood in a sewer entrance and let her mind roam to its target, his description firm in her mind. When she'd found him her mind had raced, he was panicking. She had fallen to the floor, her body wracked with agony she was less than ten feet from the entrance to the institute’s sewer system and the doctor was just above her, maybe thirty feet away. The human who was with her coldly took notes as she fought to verbalize the sensations. "HE’s panicking, someone knows he's helping us...his palms are sweaty, his mind is racing - it's....he's..
. a boy! a young boy! SEED! Fuck! her mind shifted as she lost the mental picture of the doctor, she let it roam, and it fell across different minds... joy, light, peace, torture, torment, pain, screaming, blood wet and sticky squelched beneath her feet as she walked steadily through the lab. Their subject had not put up much of a fight this time... they had just gotten him in on time..."they're nervous about something... they're rushing surgeries, I can feel his disgust, blood, I think, on the floor. There's a lot of pain in someone else...I can smell the tang of it. They're waiting for the word on something... something's going to happen! I don’t know what; but the anticipation and nervousness is so strong!" Her hands clutched at her arms and her nails raked down her forearms. She rocked back and forth as her powers thrust the jumble of emotions through her senses. Her voice grew louder and louder until she was screaming each word, long and hard, the walls of the sewer around her reverberating with her cries. She clenched her hands around her glass as her mind shifted back to the present. "I wasn't captured, I just ran away. the dick that came with me just took notes, didn't watch out for guards or anything! He was so cold! and the room... it was so bloody, someone was in a lot of pain Dryson and I don’t know why, but i can still taste the smell of the blood! I needed a drink, not a bunch of fucking jackasses sitting around congratulating themselves for my work!" she cast a baleful glance at the bartender who immediately refilled her glass and retreated just far enough so that he could still listen in. she shot him another glance as she took a long pull of her drink. she lifted her elbows off the counter and swiveled to face away from the bartender and stare Dryson full in the face, or as much as could be seen of his face. She knew he cared, she could feel it. She just didn't want to feel anything anymore, wanted nothing more than to be drunk again, drunk and alone, but, seeing as he was here, she wasn't going to get either wish. She sighed and rubbed her sunken eyes, "What do you want?"
Talkris: *Dryson sighed through his bandage covered mouth as he glanced down at his also covered hands. He made a mental note that his bandages needed to be changed soon, for they were getting filthy and the last thing he needed was risk of infection. A common cold could kill him at this point, and he just could not afford to die; Not yet anyway.* Listen, Addy. I know it’s been hard, and I know how you hate it, but we do need you. *He trailed off for a second. It wasn't just the Locusts that needed her, he needed her too. Being around another Seed brought him comfort, knowing he wasn't the only one who had managed to live this long. It was that feeling of kinship again. He continued,* Please, Addy...Adelia, you can't leave. Not yet. *The bartender gestured to Dryson, asking what he wanted to drink. He pointed to one of Addy's glasses, indicating that he wanted the same. The bag that he had brought her still lay in front of her, waiting to be eaten. Dryson always brought her a sandwich whenever he met up with her, knowing full well she didn't eat enough. True, it was money that should have been spent on his medication, but he felt she needed it more. He was not above stealing to be able to buy his serum, and usually did just that. The bartender brought over the drink and placed it in front of Dryson. He tried to get a glance under his hood, but Dryson had managed to tilt his head just so only Addy could see he bandaged face. He pushed the drink toward her. He couldn't drink it, but just being able to smell it was enough for him. He envied her for that. Addy could drink and go longer amounts of time without medication. He could not. His body couldn't sustain itself. He had more medications then food everyday.*
Filiadorma: As the bartender approached her right hand crept towards her shoulder, her shotgun suddenly heavy on her back, itching to come out and play. she blinked up at Dryson, surprised that he would order a drink at all.. knowing his limits the way she did. "I'm not going back up there Dryson. They keep sending me to track down the most foul people and experience their lives! I won't do it anymore! I know they need me... I know you like to think you need me. but you don't. I don't do anything that simple surveillance couldn't do better." The bartender slid the glass to Dryson and she watched him try to get a look under his hood. she growled ever so slightly as in one fluid motion she stood, drew her shotgun in an arch over her shoulder from its holster and slammed the barrel down into her waiting left hand. "Back off fucker. I don't think you need another hole in this fucking rat's nest of a dive!" as the bartender scurried away she let the gun fall to her side, swallowed the drink that Dryson offered in one gulp and grabbed the paper bag. "fucking people make me nuts. as if they've never seen things like us down here before." she opened the bag, took a large bite out of the delicious bologna and cheese sandwich and chased it down with the dregs from one of the seven or eight glasses in front of her. "now, are you going to tell me what you...they...whatever...want? or am I going to have to just walk out?" she knew she didnt want to go back - she knew that they would keep sending her after filthy minds. but deep down, wether her drunken mind liked it or not, she needed them too. Dryson was the closest thing to a friend she had, and since his pain was almost always purely physical, she didnt mind him as much as most of the others
Talkris: *His hands clenched tightly and he smashed his fist down on the counter at her outburst and he stood as well.* Damnit! Stop thinking everyone is out to get you! I onl- *he stopped and his eyes went wide. The sudden change in his heart rate caused him to lurch. He bent over and started hacking; his stomach became concave as he split the bandages covering his mouth slightly, to aid in his breathing. His lips were chapped, cracked and patchy in coloration. This would be the first time Addy had ever seen more of his face then just his eye. He gasped again as he coughed up a mix of blood and mucus. He reached down to his thigh for another dose of his serum. He jammed it into his neck and held his breath. He sat back down and inhaled deeply as his body began to relax. He spoke again, his words labored, as he was a bit out of breath.* We are family, you and I, no matter how much you may hate that fact. *He inhaled again, finally having caught his breath.* I'm just trying to look out for you, Addy. *He gestured toward the stool again* Please, sit with me awhile. We never have time to just talk. *He carefully wiped the bloody mucus up with his sleeve from off of the counter and from his chin. He moved the bandages back up to cover his face fully once more.*
Filiadorma: Addy's mouth worked absently at the sandwich before grudgingly moving to re-holster her gun. "Everyone may not be out to get me, but they annoy me, and that's almost as bad." she said around a mouthful of food. She stared at the bandages where his mouth had been a moment before. She didn't know quite how to handle having seen so much of him. His wracking pain was like molten lead flooding her brain. She fumbled through the bag that hung at her side and took out a flask. She opened it and downed a swallow or two. As the seed sickness faded she reached back in and took out a second bottle and baggie. She took a shot of the tequila and sucked on a lime before going back the leftovers of the sandwich. She sat down next to him and as she popped the last bite of the sandwich in her mouth she rested her head in her hands. " know we're family Dryson, that's why it's so goddamned impossible to say no to you." her voice cracked and she reached for the drink that wasn't there. Sighing she looked up a moment for the bartender, "Why don’t you stop sniveling and make some money fuck-nut! I need another fucking drink..."
Talkris: *Dryson gestured for another drink as well when the bartender had placed Addy's in front of her with a shaking hand. The few people in the old, run-down bar looked at the two with awkward expressions. None showed concern for the suffering Dryson, one even covered their mouth in the hopes of not getting whatever he had; though, that was impossible. Another drink was brought over to Dryson after a second, and, once more, he pushed it over toward Addy.* You drink it, because I can't. *The pain was still there, but he didn't show it. He knew full well that Addy would feel it, but still chose to seem as though he was fine. He glanced sideways at the bartender, still trying to hide his bandaged face as much as possible. He was grateful that this bar was so poorly lit, as the shadows did a fairly good job of hiding him. Not to mention everyone there didn't care about his being there. He felt sorry that she had to feel the pain he just had. It was one thing that he suffered so, but to make her as well? And unnecessarily so.* I'm...sorry, Addy.
Filiadorma: Addy's hands wrapped around the cool glass and she picked out a piece of ice, chewing it to suppress her own anger. "it's not your fault Dryson... I'm just a mess. this last one was just too much. The blood, they were hurting someone, and I can only imagine that it was one of us. It's just not fair to have to feel their pain and be so powerless." she swallowed and unconsciously shifted away from him. Her meds kicked in and she sighed as her stomach stopped convulsing. With the next swallow of her drink she managed to let the rest of the room fade from her awareness. "Have they worked anything out yet? Is there a plan?" she closed her eyes and looked at him sidelong, her head suddenly too heavy to hold up, "did it help at all?"
Talkris: *He brought his hand up to the level of her shoulder in a reassuring gesture. He was always so careful not to actually make contact with her, afraid of what may happen. His hand hovered there for a moment.* It helped more then you know. You have been and always will be a great asset to us, you know that. Surveillance can only go so far. You are so much better then that. *He paused and brought hand back down to rest on the counter once more. He looked her in the face, his eye the only means of reading his expression.* You know I would do it if I could. I would use my ability and gather information that way. But, *He paused with a sigh and a bit of a mental shudder* Every time I use it, I leave a little more of myself behind. I can feel my body wasting away every second I am away from it. *His eye focused into her's.* You're stronger then I am, Addy. I know my body won't last much longer, even with all of this medication. I am trying to see this to the end, so you will not be left with a burden. But, if I don't... If I do die before this is over, I need you to lead them. I know they will follow you. *He was very careful to avoid the name of the Locusts, lest someone in the bar be an informant from the Upper's Police Dept.*
Filiadorma: She clutched her glass tighter, the small amount of strength she had in her emaciated body enough to crack it slightly. she downed it quick, her body shuddered with physical revultion as his hand neared her. she shyed away again and as his words sunk in she locked eyes with him, "Dryson, I would trade you in an instant, and I know what you feel! I can't turn off what I feel....what they feel." she gestured to the quiet room behind them. She took a shakey breath. "The amount of liquor I take in can't stop it, it only numbs it, and as soon as I stop drinking, it comes rearing back. It doesn't ever let up... and for that I WILL see every one of them dead." She finnished the drink in her hand and set it forcibly back down on the counter. She set it so strongly that the crack her grip had put in it ruptured and the glass fell into two pieces in front of her. Her mind spun for a minute. how apropo, he asks the drunk emaciated one to take over incase his body shatters irreparibly, and i break the glass that holds my only solice She turned to face him and adjusted her bag over her shoulder, she downed the second drink in a gulp. "Dryson, if you die, I'll suck it up and deal... ok? I wont stop drinking, but because you asked me to, and because I want their heads on plates too, I'll take over if you die.... just don't die!" she smiled ever so faintly and pointed her finger about an inch from his bandaged nose, "And don't think that becuase I'm drunk enough to be maleable right now, that it's gonna stay that way." she took a step away from him and immediately felt somewhat better. the cacophany of noise and emotion and sensation in her head came a little clearer and she could feel, through the haze of her drunken state, just how broken he really was. "god Dryson.... I didn't know!" her eyes softened a little and she swayed a little where she stood. "let's get out of this dive, I know you have somthing you want to ask me."
Talkris:*When she said she would trade with him he, shook his head.* I would not wish my existance on anyone, you know that. *He gestured for another two drinks. The number of drinks was inconsequenal to him, as he was planning on buying. After what she had done for them earlier, he felt she deserved to have the pleasure of being numb. He pulled back his face a bit when she moved her hand toward him. He didn't want her to tip forward and touch him by accident. No one took more care of that fact then he did. He always made sure no one touched her.* I will force life for as long as you need me, Addy. Like I said, I truly don't want you to carry my burden. *He rose from his seat and walked next to her. He kept his head lowered and his hands in his pockets as they would pass the other people in the bar.* Come on, you want to come with me? I need some clean bandages before tomorrow.
Filiadorma: Her steps weren't very steady, but she managed to make a straight line. She held her bag in one hand and tried to keep her face from kissing the pavement. She nodded and smiled stupidly. "You do that, just don't kill yourself on my behalf" she rested a moment on the edge of the door of the bar before pushing away and lurching into the street. Sitting drunk was so much easier that standing. She closed her eyes a moment. Steadying her senses as the alcohol rushed her brain beyond numb and into inebriated. She took a few steps and was rewarded with the alcohol beginning to fade from her system already. If she didn’t maintain the drinking or if she stopped and then resumed movement her metabolism kicked in and wiped it quickly from her system. As her vision cleared she felt secure enough to walk. she thrust her free hand into her hoody pocket and began walking next to him, "You do know that while it kills me to be near anyone, I appreciate your help Dryson." she knew how much he looked after her, and while she hated feeling his pity almost as much as she hated feeling his pain, she appreciated his brotherly instinct over her. "Why did you let yourself get so dirty this time? You look like you've been rolling in shit"
Talkris: *A small laugh escaped his hidden lips.* I've been a bit short on cash, I'll be the first to admit that. Besides, we've been so busy with planning that I never got the chance to buy anything but my medication. *He let her comment about him looking like shit slide, mentally blaming the booze. Before they had left he slid some money for the drinks onto the bar. He walked with her to the door.* Feeling better yet? *Said in reference to her drunken state already beginning to dissipate. However, with her, she seemed to only actually feel better when she was drunk.* I promise, we won't be long. *The streets were filthy and covered in muck and mud as the last bits of the day's rain from above fell through the drain pipes and into the Lower City. There was a pungent smell about the city tonight, the moisture hanging in the air making one's skin feel clammy no matter how well covered they were. Eventually they would find themselves nearing the psudo pharmacy. The lights bearing the store's namesake were flickering, some of the letters burnt out. There was a homeless man asleep on the sidewalk outside the doors. Dryson walked in.*
Filiadorma: She turned to look at him, just a bit incredulously, "and yet you blew all that on drinks back there..." she reached her hand towards him to hover about a foot from him - "oh...thanks." She nodded her head as his question as to feeling better, knowing full well that she would only get worse from here. She tried hard to focus her mind on nothing, or at least only on herself. It was hard, his pain was so close and her liquor bottle was so depressingly empty. She looked up at the entrance to the pharmacy and then to him, "Here? You sure? Father didn't bring you anything better?"
Talkris: *He shook his head* Unfortunately not. He taught one man here how to make the medicine I need now. My body started to reject the old stuff... or become immune. I don't really know. In any case, Father can't even supply me with what I need now. The Institute would know medications that powerful were missing when they did inventory. *He sighed inwardly, mentally curing the burden he was causing their beloved Dr. Gill, the man they all called 'Father.' He was their creator and the one who freed them. He brought all what was necessary, from inside information to medications necessary to survival. Dryson was always one to act as though he was fine, even though everyone knew he wasn't. Dr, Gill was beginning to give Dryson a countdown to how long he was for this world, and was also the only one to ever see his entire body. Dryson browsed the shelves, pulling out bandages of assorted sizes and lengths. He pulled a few antibiotics as well, not only for himself, but for the others when they got hurt during missions. He saw his contact behind the counter. A tall man of dark complexion. He had long hair kept in dread-locks. Dryson walked up to him and they exchanged greetings and a friendly embrace.* This is Surge. *That name was a nickname. No one knew what this man's birth name was, and no one cared. He supplied people with that they needed or with what they desired. He handed Dryson a plain bag and a look.* This is stronger then the last batch. Be careful with this stuff, I know how often you take it. *Dryson nodded at the warning and handed Surge an unmarked envelope.* Come on Addy, let's get back. *The transaction was over quickly and Dryson moved toward the exit.*
Filiadorma: Addy stood with eyes narrowed staring at Surge. She swallowed and took an involuntary step forward towards him. "There's a lot more than Surge would like you to know Dryson..." she felt her hand reaching towards him and caught herself. "He's afraid..." she whispered. She couldn't help feeling it, it was a palpable stench rolling off the dark man. She backed away from him, her fingers twitching with the need to reach for her gun. She precedes Dryson out the door and turns to stare down the disgusting street. Her eyes narrow and she beckons Dryson forward, "something's up...I can feel it"
Talkris: *Dryson didn't want her to know about the bomb that was planned for the next day. Surge had gotten them the chemicals and fuses they needed to build it. Not all of the Locusts knew of the plan, just Dryson and three others. They planned and were going to execute it alone. This was the true reason he wanted to speak with her about taking over if he died. He wasn't absolutely sure if he would make it or not, or, even worse, if he and the others were captured. They each carried on them now a cyanide pill, just in case they were.* Don't worry about it, Addy. Just look out for yourself for awhile. *He tried his hardest to not feel anything, knowing that he would give himself away if he did. He didn't feel worry about the mission, nor even about his immanent death.* Nothing's going on.
Filiadorma: She looked at him, knew he was lying, but sensed that there was a good reason for it. She frowned at him, "I know you're not telling me something, but so long as it's not that this is some ambush, I'll let it slide..." she relaxed her death grip on the strap of the bag as relief washed through her from both men. She knew Surge was still afraid of her, of them, and of whatever was being planned, but he wasn't against them. She held herself tight as she moved to walk down the street, the squelching muck reminding her of earlier and the squelching blood. "Where are we headed? I need to stop at a liquor store, I'm out, and feeling it."
Talkris: *Dryson was relieved that she dropped the subject.* We're heading to do just that. *He knew she needed more liquor; she always needed more liquor, just as he always needed medication. The liquor store he was leading her to was even further beneath ground then they already were. But a few more blocks away. For now, he enjoyed just walking beside her, for it could very well be his last walk through the Lower City. Assorted thoughts drifted through his mind, some good, some bad. He remained silent and kept his emotions in check as best he could.*
Filiadorma: She clutched her bag and then suddenly stopped short. "Dryson, stop being so pensive and fatalistic, you're making my skin crawl! Tell me what's wrong and stop making me have to guess!" she resumed walking as she moved herself further from him, the alcohol was fast being absorbed by her system and she didn't know how long it would be before she was sober enough to feel everything and everyone around her. As it was it was, her mind was beginning to feel like the air before a thunderstorm, charged with potential to wreak havoc. Her hand moved to her temple to massage it as they walked.
Talkris: *Dryson watched as she was sobering up and saw her expression shift. He may not have had her empathetic abilities, but he knew when she was upset.* I'm sorry, Addy. I can't tell you this time. I don't want you to get hurt. *He held out the bag he had gotten from Surge filled with his serum and the bandages.* Here, hold onto this for me, will you? You can put it in your bag. *He saw how she was beginning to rub her temples, and was afraid she would pass out soon. He wanted to be able to catch her before she hit the ground. Around them were assorted people, but the streets were surprisingly dead tonight. He didn't know if it was a sign about what was to come tomorrow, or just because it had rained.* Come on, it's not much further. Hang in there a bit longer. *The two would come upon an old shady looking apartment building. Almost all of the windows were broken and boarded up. He pulled one of the boards from the door and tore down the police tape. He gestured for her to follow him as he moved in between the remaining boards, careful not to catch himself on the loose rusty nails. He lead her down a few flights of stairs, dust thick on each step. She would be able to see one other set of footprints here. They were Dryson's from earlier, when he found what he was about to share with her. Cleaning away cobwebs as he continued he finally came upon a final door whose hinges had been broken off. The door hung from a chain lock, propped against the wall. He walked into the room and inside would be revealed to her a wine cellar. It was old, each bottle having a thick layer of dust. But all of it was still good. Not only was there wine here, but every type of rum, gin, and, her favorite tequila.* What do you think?
Filiadorma: She grasped the bag, her fingers brushing his and she winced from the flood of emotion that washed through her brain and senses. She closed her eyes and hissed as she backed up from him. She absently stuffed the paper bag in her sack. Her hand went back to her temple and she followed him blindly into the dank cellar of some building. "Dryson, what the fuck, I need a store, not a place to crash!" she hissed into the dark. The walls to the place kept the rain out and the dust in, but inside of her they were melting away and a tide of "other" was taking their place. She flinched as each step sent a shot of pain up his legs that he didn't even pay attention to anymore, but she felt like a hot brand on her knees. "Dryson... please..." she walked through the rickety door, her hand catching her against the door frame. She leaned and blinked her eyes, trying hard to stop the double vision. she lurched forwards with a rare but genuine smile on her lips. "Oh god, it's perfect..." she reached to touch a bottle of white rum and choked back a sob. She moved to remove it, and with it clutched in her hand she turned to him with a smile filled with joy and gratitude. She opened her mouth to thank him and her system finished off the last of the liquor. Her barriers flooded and her face crumpled into a mask of terror and pain. the bottle shattered on the floor and she collapsed into it. Her throat opened and an agonized scream reverberated through the room as she slipped into unconsciousness.
Talkris: I knew you'd like it. *He pulled out one of the bottles after she did and brushed off the dust.* This should hold you over for- Addy! *He yelled as she screamed and dropped his bottle as well, reaching out to her and grabbing her just before her head hit the ground.* Addy! Addy, come on, wake up. *He opened her bag and pulled out her bottle of pills. He picked her up and walked to the wall opposite them. He placed her down on the floor gently. He quickly grabbed one of the bottles and popped the cork. Had he not been through this exact scenario so many times previous, he would have been worried. He always did worry when she fell like this, afraid her powers would end up killing her, just as his own were doing to him. He pried open the pill bottle and took out two pills. He carefully placed the first at her lips. He opened her mouth and pushed it to the back of her tongue. He took the bottle and poured its contents into her mouth. Massaging her throat he got the first pill down. He took the second and did the same with it. Then he moved away from her. When she was asleep was the only time he ever actually came in contact with her because he knew her abilities couldn't affect her in sleep. Once he was far enough away, all that was left to do was wait for the pills to kick in and for her to wake up. He knew he should have gotten her here faster. But the last thing she needed was to feel his guilt when she woke, so he pushed such thoughts out of his mind forcibly. He sat on the dusty floor and watched her. He always spoke to her when this happened, hoping that it would encourage her to wake sooner.* Addy, come on. You haven't even seen everything here yet. Please wake up.
Filiadorma: With a cough and a yelp she sat up. She curled into a fetal position on her side and clutched her head, her crew cut like nails against her palms, "Oh god, stop... shut up... please... just leave me alone!" She opened her eyes and they fell on Dryson sitting across from her. They focused slowly as the pills dissolved and hit her blood stream. She sees the shattered bottles around her and then the one that he had left behind. She reached one extremely shaky hand out and grasping the neck of the bottle managed to force herself into a sitting position. She moved the bottle to her lips and when its smooth contents hit her throat she whole body visibly relaxed. She swallowed fast and hard, taking down half the bottle in one pull. She closed her eyes as the familiar warmth spread out from her stomach and her mind numbed. She put the bottle down and looked at Dryson. "If I didn't know it would knock me out again I could kiss you for this. I may hate my life sometimes. But this..." she gestured to the room and its fabulous contents, "This is incredible! Thank you..." and she took another, smaller, swig from the bottle
Talkris: The thought is there, that is enough for me. *He looked to her, his single eye showing concern.* You're alright now? *He got up and pulled another bottle from the rack built into the wall and placed it near her, seeing that she would soon finish off the first.* How does it taste? I've been told the older wine is the better it tastes, so when I found this place last night, I knew you'd like it. It’s all yours, just make sure when you come here no one follows, I'm sure this has to be worth a nice sum of money and I don't want you to get hurt. *He was being more protective then normal, and she would undoubtedly pick up on this. Usually he would just tell her to watch herself and leave it at that. But the more time that passed, and the closer it was to the zero hour of his self given mission, the softer he became. He was truly afraid of death, but wasn't even sure why. He knew from the day one he would die, that his body wouldn't be able to sustain his life. Hell, he assumed he would have died long ago. The only thing that drove him was his desire for vengeance against the Institute. He began coughing again, turning his head from Addy, one hand to muffle his cough, the other drifted to his chest and clenched tightly onto his hoodie.*
Filiadorma: She looked up at him as he stood and smiled. "It tastes like heaven must feel like. It's smooth, silky, thick, and warm. It's a little bitter, but most reds are. you can taste the herbs that grew around the grapes. It's like sunshine in a bottle." she grinned wider and then actually looked at him. She was numb enough to not actually be able to feel him anymore, but she noticed the change in just his mannerisms. "Dryson, what's up? why are you so mother hen like tonight? You're more jumpy than a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs!" she stood slowly, using the wall to support herself. She took a step towards him and felt his fear slip over her. She stopped, not wanting more. She took up the second bottle, un corked it and took a pull. "Mmm, whites are always softer. Like a soft pillow across your tongue, dry but sweet." She reached for a bottle of Black Medallion or two and stuck both in her bag. When he started to cough and clutch his chest, his own concern for her flooded her and something shifted in her. She reached into her bag and took out the bag he had handed her earlier. She opened it and held it with her teeth. she reached in past the bandages and found the syringes. She moved towards him and offered it to him, "You should take this, see if it helps more..."
Talkris: *He coughs more, his grip tightening on his chest as he sat back down and leaned against the wall. He released the grip on his chest and, with his hand shaking, reached out for the syringe.* Thanks... *He took it from her and lined it up with his artery. He could do it blindfolded. Years of taking his serum in this manner made him able to find the vein instantly and without effort. He pressed the needle's tip into his flesh and pressed the end to allow the liquid to enter his blood stream. He didn't even feel the needle's sting anymore. His hands and legs spasmed as the more powerful serum surged through him. His teeth clenched from behind the bandages as his body writhed with pain. Surge was right, this was an almost deadly dosage. He groaned in pain. He wanted to scream, but held it in. The needle fell from his hand and clicked on the floor. His visible eye rolled into the back of his head as his body continued twitching.*
Filiadorma: Addy watched him twitch, her concern for him mingling with the pain he was feeling washing over her into a confusing mix that she was hard pressed to contain. She put a hand to her head and absently took another swallow of the wine in her hand. She walked another step closer to him and slipped to her knees. She was numb enough that her power was a dull echo in the back of her head, ever present, but more like a mosquito in her ear than causing her any real pain. This was why she combined the numbing effects of alcohol and the medications. The meds had a mild sedative in them, blurring the lines of her mind so that she wasn't sure what was her and what was outside influence; the liquor nullified that even more so, so that she was incapable of clear speech or walking a straight line, but she could stop being in pain as her tormented body exhausted itself drawing in all the other emotions around her. Her hand reached out and hovered over Dryson's arm, the most contact that she ever allowed. "Feeling better?"
Talkris: Dryson's eye focused forward once more after a moment of silence. He felt the warmth of her hand near him and his arm twitched. He looked at her, seeing his own reflection in her eyes. He saw how pathetic he looked. He wheezed out a whisper of words, barely audible. "Thanks..." He moved his hand over to the fallen syringe and carefully picked it up, staring at it for a moment before placing it into the holster on his leg. His hood had fallen back during his seizure, so, with his freehand, he lifted it again to cover his head. He slowly got to his feet, bracing his weight on the wall. He coughed once more. "I should get going, the others will be looking for me." He moved across the room and picked up the small bag containing his medications.
Filidorma: Addy frowned at him, his coldness a startling change when he had been so caring before. "What's going on?" she repeated for the third or forth time. She took a sip of wine. She didn't want to read it off of him, she wanted for him to tell her. She wanted this semblance of normalcy to continue for another minute. She took a step towards him, but stopped herself, not sure of herself, of him, or of the sudden complacency of her powers. Always untrusting she eyed him, his un-hooded head and the wounded look in his eye enough to let her know that there really was something going on, something that was rather large, that he didn't want her to know about. She walked to place herself between him and the door. "What's the rush big guy? I've got a room full of booze, you've got new band aids and meds, it's a fucking party! Stop lying to me and share the big ol' secret." Her voice slurred and she narrowed her eyes and swayed where she stood, the alcohol spreading like a warm blanket through her blood stream.
Talkris: Dryson stopped at her words and gestures. She was the only one who could make him act soft. She was the only one who could make him feel almost human. Around the others, he kept such a cold countenance, using his leadership position as a distraction from his constant pain. But, with Addy, he felt comfortable. He knew that, no matter the walls he tried to put up, she would eventually see through them. He turned to face her, "I don't want to get you involved. Its safer if you stay ignorant to it, Addy. Trust me."
Filidorma: She stood straight, looked him square in the eye and stepped aside. Her eyes held no emotion whatsoever; she had never before been this cold inside. For the first time in her entire miserable existence her mind was in complete accord with the mind her power was feeding off of. She took a step towards him and it only grew. She was quiet inside, her mind empty of all but a twinge of wonder. Another step. Her mind shifted slightly towards fear but as she felt his burning anger as well as his usual pain, she became more defined as herself, and less as a unit of him. She narrowed her eyes. Another step. She stood mere centimeters from him. Her mind was still so icy cold and yet broiling hot with their combined rage she didn't know her own limits. She raised her hand almost a foot above her own head and touched his cheek. She locked her frozen and calm eyes on his one broiling one and whispered, "Good luck."
Talkris: He looked her in the eyes, his own emotions being reflected back at him, and mirrored by her own as well. He saw the clarity in her gaze and the expression on her face. He felt the warmth of her hand against his cheek, but was unable to feel her skin due to the bandages. He brought his own hand up to rest on her's for a moment, before he removed her hand from his face and down to her side. He released her hand and whispered back, "Thanks." He walked past her and through the rotting door, leaving her in the room that was his gift. He walked up the stairs and as he did so she would be able to hear his every step creaking on the old wood. He left the way he came in, squeezing through the planks covering the main entrance. He glanced around the street, ensuring that no others were around to cause his sibling trouble in his absence. He drifted down the street. It had gotten darker, some of the lights shorting out due to the rain. Soon enough, he found himself at the rendezvous point where he would meet the other two Locusts members and begin their mission.
Filiadorma: Addy took an agonizingly slow breath as the room and the building emptied. It was a rarity indeed; no one inhabited this entire building. She was completely alone, deliciously drunk, and with a seemingly endless supply to maintain this succulent feeling. She let herself sink to the dusty floor, reached out and took two more pills before sitting and contemplating the stunning supply of booze before her. Her mind was still reeling from the clarity from before, and she was just drunk enough to not really know what Dryson had meant. But she knew she felt something for him that was not just his own emotions imprinting on her brain. But despite her ability to read people like cheap novels, she could read expressions well too. She knew he would be careful, and that this mission was extremely important. She smiled viciously, "Fuckers...deserve every ounce of agony they throw their way!" She took another pull on the bottle and felt it empty itself down her persistently parched throat. She grinned, rose to her knees, and pulled another bottle from the wall. The room was warm enough that she could take her jacket off. Once off, she bundled it into a pillow next to her bag, she took off the holster that was strapped around the dirty black t-shirt she was wearing and set it next to her bag. She uncapped the bottle of gin she had selected, lay down and stared at the paint chipped ceiling. She smiled, "Good luck big guy.... and thanks!" and took a sloppy sip from the bottle.
END
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