[Private Roleplay] ~ Eternal Eden

poe • 20 April 2016 at 8:18 PM

@bunnyshadow

"That I can most certainly provide. Why don't we have lunch together...?" He quirked his brow just a little, seeing if she'd provide a name before offering his own.

Jules was perhaps too friendly since gaining the freedom to make decisions based on what he wanted and not what the government wanted... And he desperately wanted to believe there was good in everyone. It was easier for him to throw his trust at people with a response time so fast he often had a back-up plan before someone could finish drawing their gun.

bunnyshadow • 21 April 2016 at 11:48 AM

@poe

~~~

"Sounds fair." Isale replied, though she did ignore the man's silent request for her name. She didn't believe in sharing names. Names meant identity, and identity meant recognition.

The woman pulled her coat off her shoulders. She slipped it on with little to no trouble, before throwing a sideways glance over to the man, forming an opinion of him from what little she knew, and what little she saw.

He seemed well fed, a lot healthier looking then most of the people on the streets that were able to walk around nowadays. Isale barely kept in contact with people(or anyone for that matter) in general, but from what she had been seen from the few interactions she had manged to make, he was a lot more well off than almost anyone she had ever laid eyes upon.

He seemed companionable, however maybe too much so for Isale's taste. His words were frank, but they were sincere. The man oozed self confidence, something that Isale could bring herself to respect, but probably could never bring herself to have.

She wrapped her arms around her body self-consciously.

asi • 21 April 2016 at 7:01 PM

"Fine," and, "It's fine," were the first things that came to mind as Shimon replied to both the lady and young man consecutively, with a frown and a shrug.
He wasn't entirely sure what to do with such helpful, perfect strangers. He rather thought the woman might be wrong about this market, since the general public thus far seemed less violent than in his experiences, and those who were nice seemed so much more so...
The shopkeepers were still there, within eyesight, and using it to watch them, but he figured leaving wouldn't be well-received. They'd probably think he was running away, sigh. He'd just have to deal with being uncomfortable.
So Shimon simply took a seat where he was, on the ground, took his bag off his shoulders, and started setting up lunch. He took out the basic survival stuff; the small steel fire-bowl to heat with, a couple of highly combustible and long burning sticks which were tossed inside, a set of flint and steel that he held hesitantly for a few moments... Before offering them to the silver-haired boy. Needless to say, the set was rather worn, as there had been a few too many times where he'd gotten frustrated and nearly turned them to dust in his hands. He felt like it might be safer in someone else's.
Then came out the water bottles and the food- he had two options, pretty standard-fare both wrapped up in sparkly factory plastic: Twinkie-brand square meals ("now with extra EXTRA preservatives- built to outlast the apocalypse!"), and Spam-brand hot-dog meat ("5% meat, 10% protein, all you need to survive!"). Shimon had to suppose the government did one good thing, keeping the factories running, and letting them continue to produce ever-more cynical slogans. He wasn't sure why they wasted so much energy on making the packaging bright glittery colors though- presumably to charge more for them. In any case, there weren't many options to choose from, and the Twinkie brand and its main competitor had a near monopoly on the industry.
Last was the teapot and his tin of leaves. Shimon glanced inside and was relieved by the sight of green filling the cylinder up to just under halfway. He wasn't near running low, not yet. Once he'd spooned a little into a paper pouch, stuck that in the pot and poured enough water in, all he needed was the fire and he could have a nice pot of tea underway... He'd die for a little milk, of course, but that was out of the question. Shimon could never seem to find any with enough preservatives to be practical.
Having been lost completely in thought and conversation for the past few minutes, he turned back to his two strange lunch-mates to murmur, "I guess if you really want to help, I need to find a little girl I came here with and see that she's safely reunited with her family," he worried, staring into the watery teapot depths before replacing the lid. "Also, pay this woman back for a dozen broken lightbulbs..." Yes, stubborn Shimon was going to do it properly if it killed him-
"All this before I destroy the suburb," he added morosely, and it sounded like an impossible feat.

dada_dragon • 21 April 2016 at 8:24 PM

Indigo sat down.

"A half-dozen actually." she said, not wanting him to pay for more than he needed to. "They're pretty scare these days, even in the radiation zones... Most were broken in the explosions. There aren't very many people anymore who have electricity though... Solar panels are just about the only sources of electricity these days..."

She grabbed a single Twinkie-brand meal. She preferred hunted meat, but she wasn't going to be picky.

"Although I did see a wind farm once... It was quite a thing to behold... Giant windmills that powered an entire settlement... but you know what usually happens then..." she smiled bitterly. "I heard they'd gotten bombed not long after I left. Only a handful of very lucky survivors, although they probably didn't live long either, with the radiation and all. It was a real shame."

No hint of emotion in her voice. It was useless to grow attached to anything anymore.

@bunnyshadow
@asi
@takatheeducatedkid
@taffy789
@poe

takaedakumi • 23 April 2016 at 11:42 AM

@asi @dada_dragon

~~~

Arlo was glad that Shimon was accepting of his offer to help--it made things a lot easier since he had planned to do his part to fix at least some of this regardless of permissions. As the man handed him flint and steel, Arlo sat down with the two and began to make a small fire for the tea that Shimon had brought out, among some other food items. He listened to the man's request that they help him locate a girl that he had been traveling with, and the comment following his mention of owing Indigo some lightbulbs made Arlo pensive.

"I think I understand a little where you're coming from..." he said, thinking of his situation with Creed. His destructive other half often caused him a lot of trouble that he had to deal with when he finally gained control again. This man's problem didn't sound like a second personality, but he could sympathize with his constant worry of an unpredictable tendency to bring chaos to a place. "Anyway," Arlo started, not wanting to get into that right now, "I'll see what I can do to help you find this girl. What does she look like?" he asked, handing the flint and steel back to the other after having made a proper place to heat up tea.

"Oh yeah, I almost forgot to introduce myself," he added, "I'm Arlo."

*And I'm Creed.* his other half commented, though he knew that the others couldn't hear him--he just wanted to remind Arlo that he was still there; he liked his presence to remain looming while the other tried to go about normal activities.

asi • 24 April 2016 at 3:39 AM

He stared out into the distance, beyond the surroundings of crumpled, shoddily built stalls crammed around the ancient, worn-out buildings, and tried to imagine a sight such as the woman described.
Shimon shook his head. "I haven't traveled all that far." Glancing to the newcomer, he felt the tiniest bit shy, for surely the figure in the blatant travelling guise, scarf, coat and all, had too journeyed much further afield than he.
"I'm not even sure I know what electricity looks like..." Like small lightning, right? Or perhaps it was a different color, consistency? He didn't really have a clue about these things, going only off the descriptions of others...
Not knowing didn't bother him though. On such matters, his curiosity was limited. Electricity was a luxury item these days, and Shimon knew very well that he could live without. What it was used for, he wasn't entirely sure. It just, didn't seem to concern him at all, even as the government persisted in using it to reducing the remaining fertile lands to waste... Well, he certainly had no need to pursue a weapon of destruction- Shimon was one himself.
As the silvery-haired rogue fixed up the fire, he could already feel his scowl lessening, ebbing away just as the prospect of tea grew near. He received his firestarter with a quiet thanks and set the pot to brew.
"Do you really?" he wondered at the man's words. It was not rare for people to claim to understand Shimon... He had plenty of experience with their frustration as months of their best tries at kindness yielded no discernible improvement. He hated to let such people down, but when he told them he couldn't be fixed, they never did listen...
But from this guy, it didn't sound like it was sympathy he was getting?
In any case, he thought back to the girl. Since he didn't owe this guy anything, and he was volunteering to help, Shimon didn't feel at all guilty about trying him. At least attempting to describe, that couldn't hurt. "Well- well," the blond frowned his frustration, brow crinkling. "She was small. Dark," he said finally, and even so little seemed an effort. "Wore a hood... She was an awful shot, and she had a donkey, or a mule." He wasn't too clear on the difference himself, though he knew others to be fierce about such things. "And her name was Ismene." He decided the animal's moniker wouldn't help, probably.
"Mine's Shimon," he scowled at Arlo, but only because he couldn't help it. At least not until the tea was brought to the boil, and he could ask everyone for their cups.

dada_dragon • 24 April 2016 at 10:39 AM

Indigo reached into her pack, pulling out a faded mug and handed it to Shimon.

"You can't really see the electricity." She said, taking the last bite of the meal. "It travels through wires to whatever you're trying to power... For example, if you plug in a lightbulb, it lights up and allows you to see when it's dark."

"Not all of these old relics were frivolous. I find a lot of stuff out where no one else bothers to scavenge. Most of it is useless junk that used to serve an entertainment purpose, I suppose."

@asi
@takatheeducatedkid

poe • 26 April 2016 at 3:06 AM

@bunnyshadow

He didn't blame the woman for not giving a name. Some people did, and some didn't. But he was curious now if she had something to hide.

"Do you consider yourself a merchant, or are you just stopping in to trade a few things?" Jules asked, trying to keep up a conversation. She seemed like she wouldn't put too much effort into it. But she also seemed like she didn't talk much to strangers, at least.

The young man rifled through one of his small bags and pulled out dried, smoked meat. It was less common than things like spam-brand meats, but it was mostly a lot more valuable for the taste.

"I'm not too sure what your preferences are, but I have a few kinds of smoked meat. The deer is great, but maybe I'm biased." Jules offered the beautiful woman a portion to try, in case she hadn't had it before. He vaguely considered that this might be odd behavior, but he also didn't really care.

bunnyshadow • 26 April 2016 at 4:01 AM

@poe

~~~

Isale arched a brow at the man's continued attempts at conversation. She sighed internally, but couldn't help but feel grateful that he was kind enough to offer her some of his food. "I'm just stopping by." The woman answered as she took a piece of the meat from the man. "Only for a bit, before I head out again."

She took a bite, and forced herself not to devour the meat too quickly. It tasted considerably better than anything she had eaten for the past few weeks, but she couldn't help but wonder if the man was a hunter. Isale had noticed his weapons earlier, and speculated if he had anything fresh.

taffy789 • 1 May 2016 at 2:33 AM

The gated community resided deep with the Suburb; it took Ismene a good thirty minutes of walking to finally reach it.
When she gazed upon the camp’s crumbling stone walls and the large, bent and rusty metal gate that constituted the sole entrance, she couldn’t think of a more unpleasant place to be strolling into.
There was barbed wire triple wrapped around the gate and layered along the top of the wall as well- signaling to all that both intruders and escapees were equally unwelcome. The stone wall stood stark against the brown of the surrounding grass, colored bright with tasteless grattifi- names, curse words, and multiple versions of The Quarantined’s ensign, a Q with an X through it. Ominous smoke from various fires collected over the camp, bathing the sky above in a permanent gray and making the circling vultures stand out against the monotone clouds. If Ismene had begun to wonder why vultures settled as a fixture in this place, she didn’t have to for long; when she approached the gates her nostrils filled with the nauseating stench of death, and she turned her gaze upwards only to bite down on her tongue in shock.
Staring down from their resting place impaled on top of the gate’s spikes, the stark white skulls grinned, taking pleasure at her horror. Ismene wished she could pretend they were fake- just decoration to ward off any trespassers- but the presence of the… meatier skulls completely dissuaded her from even the most superficial wishful thinking. Resigned to the truth, she forced eye contact with the skulls and searched for the familiar face of her father. Relaxing when she didn’t catch sight of him, Ismene’s hands tightened around the rope leading Ariel, and the young girl pressed forward.

A sole guard waited behind the gate.
He rose his rifle and leveled it at Ismene’s chest as she came near, commanding her to “Halt!”
Not an idiot, Ismene followed orders and stopped dead in her tracks, even raising her hands up to prove she was unarmed.
The guard ordered her to come to the gate, and she complied.
He gave her a glance over with a flick of his eyes and sneered in disgust before spitting out, “Scram, merchant. We don’t let anyone set up shop at camp anymore, so unless you want me to shoot your donkey, I’d suggest hightailing your ugly mug out of here, fast, got it?”
Ismene’s fist tightened around Ariel’s lead. It was tempting, so tempting, to take up the man’s offer, to take off running and hope she didn’t get shot in the back for target practice as she left. Every intelligent thought in her brain was screaming to leave, leave, leave!- but her heart, that dumb, loyal fool, told her to stay, and so she stayed. She steeled herself and spoke in careful, measured words, “I’m not here to try to sell my wares; I’m here on business.” Ismene paused, an idea, some Good Words to say popping into her mind, and she added, voice harder, “If you want to shoot the mule, go ahead. I’m sure Lucky Leroy would love to hear about how you shot his newest pack animal and left it for the vultures to eat…”
Her Good Words worked their magic, and the guard blanched, startled by the revelation.
“You… You are here for the boss?” His gun lowered, now threatening to shoot at a tuff of dead grass. “You’re kidding! You’re a kid, you’re, you’re-” Narrowing his eyes, the man clenched his rifle and lifted it back up, concentrating its crosshairs on the girl’s throat, “You’re kidding.”
Sweating through her hoodie, Ismene swallowed and thought, oh well, she’d tried her best without resorting to playing the most desperate card, but now her hand was forced…
Squeezing her eyes shut, afraid to see what her fate coming at her, she spoke the words that would either momentarily save her or get her shot on the spot-
“I’m here to see Leroy about Helius, Oscar Helius. I’m… an associate of his.”
…
After seconds passed with no gun going off, Ismene decided it was safe enough to peek. Creaking an eyelid open, she saw the guard, standing with his gun lowered once more. Ismene snapped both eyes open and breathed in a gust of new life.
“Makes ‘ense now,” the guard muttered, giving his head a shake. “I’ll let you in, but, heh, good luck once you’re in there.” He snorted, “An associate of Helius? Yeah, good friggin’ luck.”
… Ismene watched as he unlocked the gate, her stomach feeling as it had disappeared, had dropped all the way down to her feet.

poe • 1 May 2016 at 3:24 AM

@bunnyshadow

Jules decided not to press for where she was headed at this point, trying not to get too invasive. He took a bite of the smoked meat. It was good, and he was grateful for it, considering he didn't take the time to hunt when he realized he was low on water. As he mulled that over and took another bite, he looked around casually.

While he chewed, he noticed a few new faces in the market area. It made sense for people to be looking around in a market area, but these people seemed to not take interest in the wares. Their eyes kept darting to specific points, and Jules let part of his brain try to follow where they looked. He let another part scan the curious people. Yet another part wondered if they were part of the gang active in this part of the country.

"I wish I had something better to offer you for your water, but I wasn't sure I'd make it here before I ran out of water in the first place. If we were headed in the same direction, maybe I could catch something to share." Jules smiled apologetically. "Speaking of, how about a little of that water?"

takaedakumi • 3 May 2016 at 1:06 PM

"I see," Arlo said in reply to Shimon's description of Ismene, "Well I haven't seen anyone like that yet, but it can't be too hard to pick her out of a crowd if she's got a mule, right? Not many people have animals like that around here. There are plenty of young girls at this market, but if we look for her donkey we might locate her easier."

He was a little intimidated by the constant scowl Shimon wore, but he figured it probably wasn't something the man meant to do, since he didn't seem to harbor any ill will towards them as he talked.

"Oh no, I'm good," Arlo answered to the offer of tea, "Thanks anyway though." he added with a quick nod. Arlo didn't want to impose, especially since supplies like tea weren't exceedingly easy to obtain. As such, he also politely ignored the food that Shimon had brought out.

*Really, Arlo, you should think of yourself once in a while.* Creed commented, *I mean, you don't even take free stuff when it's NOT stealing? You're gonna starve us both.*

"So this Ismene girl," Arlo started again, trying to ignore Creed and the hunger creeping up on him, "Do you know how long ago you lost her?"

bunnyshadow • 3 May 2016 at 2:35 PM

@poe

~~~

"I guess..." Isale said awkwardly as she shifted from one foot to the other. She slowed her walk, almost halting as she turned to face the man. Her bright eyes flitted around the area as she sought out a more solitary area that would serve as a more comfortable place for her to use her abilities. The woman gave a sideways glance off to the edge of the marketplace, where the path led towards the outer ridges of the camp.

"We should go to a less crowded area." She mumbled as she motioned towards the spot. "Over there." Isale said as she headed over.

asi • 3 May 2016 at 7:03 PM

"So you must travel very far then," Shimon commented, as most of the technology talk flew right by him. He'd only brought it up to try and get a gauge on his debt, but the only scale that was becoming clearer was his lack of understanding and interest in the stuff. It wasn't his business and he didn't suppose it ever would be. "You... Probably didn't need the extra work. Thanks for helping out anyway," he said lowly while he filled the mug and handed it back to her steaming.
Although her shop talk failed to hold his attention much better than linen did water, it wasn't to say that he didn't appreciate her company. There was something in the faraway look in her eye, even as her tone remained the same, that spoke of her true sense of wonder and fascination as she described the strange old world tech, things like "windmills" and "lit-up lightbulbs" that simple commoners like him didn't dream of.
"What's your name?" he asked, not remembering having heard it, before quickly tacking on. "Only if you want to tell."
Although Arlo's next words bestowed him with a sudden new sense of hope, it seemed to change very little outwardly, as Shimon still glared at the guy who was refusing to participate in lunch. He was not a person to be easily distracted like that.
He shoved a Spam-brand pack over to Arlo. "Eat," he demanded with a tone rather more forceful than was meant, but Shimon didn't exactly care so long as the outcome it had was desirable. "Or you won't be able to help later. Call it advance payment if you have to," he shrugged.
No one ever gave advance payment these days, not if they were in their right mind, but it was just a bit of food and honestly being a little different had never gotten Shimon killed yet. Besides, volunteer work was already taking place, and that had to be even rarer.
"Besides, it's a waste not to drink tea while it's hot," he grunted. And judging by his expression, it was clear that one very scary blond considered that waste more or less equivalent to a crime.
He poured his own cup and sipped at it slowly. The effects were not instantaneous, but gradually grew more and more obvious as all the hard lines on his face drained away with the contents of the teacup. Tea calmed Shimon like nothing else, and by the time his portion was half gone, the transformation could not be more remarkable. Even his eyebrows, which appeared so heavily set over his eyes they might have been made of concrete, now seemed to float as lightly as clouds above. Gone was every trace of the so-called permanent scowl and any ill-temper. He looked completely relaxed.
Sighing happily, he lowered his teacup down to warm his other hand, and smiled at his lunchmates, observing innocently; "Ah... Good tea is medicine for the soul, isn't it?"
Taking another sip, Shimon carried on contemplating the case of the missing Ismene. "It could have only been a few hours ago, three at most. I suppose she couldn't have gotten too far, with a tired old mule like that. That's good."

dada_dragon • 3 May 2016 at 7:31 PM

"Indigo." She said. "I do travel more than most... Primarily because I don't have to worry about the radiation... That's what usually keeps people from wandering too far, isn't it? Probably for the best... I always seem to run across those fools chasing "Eden" or whatever they're calling it... If they don't die, they become mutants... And believe me, that's almost worse... I've seen it."

She took a good long drink of the tea. It was cheap stuff, but...

"Here..." She reached into her bag and pulled out a small burlap pouch. "No one really buys this stuff anymore... I was going to toss it, but I can see you'd probably make better use of it than a rat would. Honestly, you'd be doing me a favour by taking it... It takes up space that can be filled with more useful things... I think it's called "jasmine" or something... Found it in an abandoned coffee shop."

@asi
@takatheeducatedkid

takaedakumi • 3 May 2016 at 7:59 PM

"Well, when you put it that way, how could I refuse?" Arlo chuckled nervously, taking the food and the tea from Shimon. He was a bit of a pushover when it came to such things because he didn't like to seem impolite, so he didn't protest any further. As he took a sip of the calming tea, his face shone with surprise. "You make really good tea, Shimon!" he said, meaning his words completely. He wasn't hard to please when it dealt with food and drink, but he was very impressed by the flavor--it wasn't too weak or too strong; it was just right.

Arlo was happy to see the other feeling so relaxed, and he had to agree with Shimon's comment about tea. "Yeah, I suppose it is." Though his expression darkened a bit when Indigo mentioned those searching for Eden, referring to them as fools. He decided not to mention his own search for it and silently took another sip of tea.

*Wow, what a b-* Creed started, but Arlo practically choking on his tea stopped him from finishing his sentence.

"Sorry, swallowed it wrong." Arlo squeaked, coughing a couple of times before calming down again. If he could have elbowed Creed in the stomach, he'd have done it.

asi • 4 May 2016 at 7:32 AM

"That does sound dumb," Shimon agreed, raising his eyebrows as he wondered why anyone would risk the radiation. Obviously everyone had different levels of tolerance- this Indigo, for example, must have a high one- but these were things that could be more or less tested from a young age. The kits were one of the few things other than food that the government subsidized the production and easy supply of. In his case, he knew his own radiation tolerance levels to be sadly small. He'd quickly fall ill if he went to close to such a zone. His parents had reminded him of that fact many a time, whenever he'd expressed curiosity in venturing out of the small town he'd grown up in.
"If only people treasured what they had more. Like tea. Then things wouldn't get so needlessly thrown away," he continued to drink in a steady, measured manner, savoring the flavor before each swallow. Tea was heaven.
Nodding to Arlo, Shimon advised seriously; "Practice and get the right stuff. Buy what they sell you here and you'll get served muddy water, 'less you know what to ask for."
He set down his emptied cup just as Arlo began to splutter. Face clouding over with concern, he didn't even hesitate before reaching back to pat the other guy on the back. Normally such an act would have sent the victim down to headbutt the floor and proceed to greet the gods of the underworld. But now he was able to do so with so little force behind it, it might not have had an effect had Arlo actually been choking for his life. Instead of it bowling the poor dude over, it seemed to have far less strength to it than Shimon even intended...
Oh. He always forgot tea had that effect on him, as well. He smiled sheepishly and put his hands in his pockets as Arlo recovered just fine on his own after just a few coughs. It wasn't like tea could truly harm anyone anyway!
Speaking of- he stared in disbelief at what Indigo held in her hands. "What, seriously?" Hazel eyes lit right up. "That's jasmine? I didn't even think it existed anymore! Oh, wow..."
He accepted the pouch from her excitedly, drinking in the scent. "It really is! People out here really have no appreciation for real tea," he looked possibly like he could cry, having just been reunited with a long lost lover or something.
Then he sniffed again. "A coffee shop? Oh no. I can still smell the awful stuff, a bit..." Shimon sighed and stowed the burlap away careful. "Thank you. I can definitely make good use of it," he told Indigo solemnly- and without any intent of giving it back should she hear his words and change her mind. Something precious like that? No way was he gonna give it up again once he'd heard her mention rats.
It was then that he began to feel a prickling sensation on the back of his neck. Like someone was watching them.
Probably because they were, and rather obviously. Shimon turned and saw the men, a rather gnarly bunch, just as one of them pointed a finger right at him, saying; "The big guy. How much more explicit can it get?"
... Uh oh.
Next thing he knew, there was an arm around his throat and and something pressed over his mouth and nose that tasted- surprisingly sweet. He was barely capable of struggling and after just a few inhalations, Shimon was out like a light. The last thing he felt was the pressure on his sides and the way the ground moved roughly beneath his feet, as he was being dragged away.
The teapot was left steaming.

dada_dragon • 4 May 2016 at 7:52 PM

Indigo was caught off-guard by the attack. Quickly jumping to her feet, she reached into her pocket for her lighter. It was a clever tactic... Take out the big guy first...

One of the men was running towards her. Making sure that she was in front of Arlo so as not to burn him, she exhaled sharply to release the gas, then raised her lighter to it.

Click

She looked down at her lighter in disbelief, realizing it was empty. She tossed it aside, and raised her fists.

The first strike threw her off-balance, but her block managed to cancel the majority of the force behind it. Ducking low to regain her balance, she landed a decent punch to his side, but she wasn't exceptionally strong, so the blow did not affect him too much.

She was setting up for a kick when she was grabbed from behind. She elbowed the man in the stomach, but by then the second man had grabbed her as well, covering her mouth and nose with a rag.

She felt her movements slowing as the chloroform began taking effect...

Her eyes met Arlo's, hoping he would take the hint and run.

@asi
@takatheeducatedkid

takaedakumi • 5 May 2016 at 4:41 PM

Arlo quickly got into a fighting stance when a group of mysterious men began dragging Shimon away against his will, and he was surprised to see Indigo pull out a lighter to blow fire at the intruders. "So that's how you do it." he commented, but he became concerned when nothing came out and the girl tossed aside her weapon of choice.

*Run, you idiot. There's no point in staying here!* Creed told his other half as Arlo rushed forward to stop the others from being dragged away.

It was a foolish choice, that much he was aware of, but Arlo couldn't allow himself to just run away from these people--not when they needed his help.

*You probably think you're helping, but if you want to save them, you need to get out of here and make a plan.* Creed continued, knowing how Arlo saw these kinds of things.

Arlo exhaled deeply in frustration. He knew Creed was right, and it hurt to leave them behind, but he vowed to himself that he'd be back for the two as he turned to escape the scene--though he didn't expect to run straight into a large, well built tank of a man that might have rivaled Shimon if he hadn't been out cold and dragged away.

"Wow. Ahh, just passing through..." Arlo said with a weak smile as he tried to sidestep the man, but he was dragged backward by his coat when he started toward the crowd that had gathered to see the spectacle.

"Not so fast, little guy." the brute grumbled, lifting him several inches off the ground.

Arlo felt extremely small at the comment, and his mind ran wild with thoughts on how he might get out of this without being pulverized. "Is something wrong?" was all he could muster as he shrugged, hoping that by some crazy chance, they wouldn't suspect him of having any sort of ability despite being found with others like himself.

The hulking man chuckled at his attempts to act innocent, and he stroked his short black beard with his free hand. "You're coming with us."

"Fine, I know when I've been outnumbered." Arlo admitted in a defeated tone, looking around at the others gathering up Shimon's belongings that had been left. It looked like they couldn't pass up some free items in the process of kidnapping. "At least let me walk on my own." he added, glaring up at his captor.

"Don't even think about running." the gruff man warned, setting him down slowly.

The second Arlo felt his coat released, he kicked off the dusty road and toward a break in the group of assailants, shifting forward quickly with a grin, pleased with himself for so easily gaining freedom. It was short-lived, however, and he felt himself get tackled to the side as quickly as he'd escaped, dirt flying up from the ground as he hit the partially paved street.

"You're a fast one, aren'tcha?" he heard from the figure now saddled on top of him. He couldn't see who it was, because his head was being forcefully held downward. "So unlucky that you aren't the fastest one here, though!" the voice added in a sing-song tone, as the same chemical-soaked rag that had put out the others was shoved over his face.

Arlo held on as long as he could, but his consciousness slipped away and his struggling relaxed, helplessly allowing them to pull him up off the ground and away as the crowd dissipated once again, having seen that the commotion was dealt with.

*Nicely done, Arlo. Nicely done...* was the last thing he heard from Creed before the sounds around him faded out.

taffy789 • 7 May 2016 at 12:16 PM

Although Ismene hadn’t thought it possible, the inside of the camp was less welcoming than the outside.
It smelled putrid- a sickening mixture of alcohol, blood, and vice that forced its way up Ismene’s nostrils without bothering to politely ask first. Politeness, though, was the last thing expected from anything in the camp.
A guard walked behind Ismene, leading her to the boss’s house, and he snapped at her to keep moving every time she began to slow down. Ismene couldn’t help it; many of the sights would’ve made anyone freeze where they’d stood. Leering men in dirty coats stared at her as she hurried past, vulturish in how their eyes followed her, hungry and searching for any sign of weakness. A group of loud, rowdy people surrounded a large cage, and Ismene shrunk smaller when she caught sight of the sullen, thin people behind the iron bars. Slavers. The captured being sold were most likely mutants, or even those the gang just felt like kidnapping. Either way, Ismene’s shied away from the cage as if she could catch captivity like the common cold. She tore her eyes away from the rowdy group of buyers and sellers, telling herself to keeping moving, keep walking, as if merely never stopping would keep every negative outcome or cruel twist of fate far behind her and struggling to catch up.
The guard shoved her forward again, and both Ismene and Ariel trotted forward at a faster pace. She hated the man breathing down her back, herding her to Leroy’s house as if she were a sheep being thrown in a gated pen. It took all her self-control to not lose her nerves and start running around, trapped and frantic and whipping around in tight circles like a doe surrounded on all four sides by a bush fire. Anxiety tightened in her calf muscles as every stepped brought her closer to the large, graying house at the end of the Suburb’s street.
“Here’s the boss’s house,” the guard grunted behind her, “Leave the mule outside with me and go in.”
Ismene warily handed the reins to the guard, not enjoying letting her possessions out of her sight, but staring at the guy’s gun and knowing she was in no position to argue with any orders.
With Ariel standing guard with the man on the house’s front steps, Ismene tugged at the corners of her hoodie and stepped inside the house.

bunnyshadow • 8 May 2016 at 3:01 PM

@taffy789 @dada_dragon
@takatheeducatedkid @asi

~~~

The black stallion reared it's head angrily as it's reins were pulled roughly by it's owner. It neighed noisily as it halted it's trotting to circle around the pair of bodies on the ground, huddled around each other in terror. Dirt and dust flew up around the small area as the horse kicked at the ground impatiently. Fang got off the steed victoriously, landing on the ground in a puff of sand.

One of the people were attempting to crawl away from him, but was met with a terrifying halt as Fang grabbed him by the back of his collar and forced a cloth up to his mouth. It took only a few seconds, before his body hit the ground with a thud. The other had been staring at him in fear, but Fang ignored the wide eyed gaze as he forced him to meet a similar end.

He kicked the bodies to check if they were still conscious, but were met with no movements. Fang smiled to himself, priding himself in his accuracy, as fresh blood oozed from the wounds on their legs. He caught a good look at their faces, and noticed that they appeared similar.

"Brothers..." He muttered under his breath as he heaved them over his shoulder and onto his horse. The black stallion neighed loudly in protest at the 2 additional weights thrown across it's back, but Fang ignored it's cries as he got on the steed as well. With a harsh whip of the reins, the animal reared before charging across the desert and towards the suburb.

His horse slowed to a trot as it entered the beginnings of the merchant camps. He ignored the hefty stares he received from the civilians as they glanced warily in his direction. The animal slowed to a walk as it headed by the more crowded areas of the area. It wasn't long until he reached the looming gates that signaled the exterior of the Quarentined's camp.

“Halt!” The guard ordered. Fang pulled at the horse's reins, and it circled to a stop in front of the man's leveled rifle. He seemed about to tell Fang to scram, until he caught sight of the two bodies piled on the stallion. "State your business." The guard said, albeit a bit hesitantly.

"I have a delivery." Fang replied harshly.

poe • 8 May 2016 at 6:34 PM

@bunnyshadow

Jules followed, thinking through a few courses of action in the event she was just luring him elsewhere like an animal to be slaughtered. But he wasn't too concerned. She lacked charisma, which was common among people using such ruses. The beautiful woman was likely more worried about her own well-being than trying to cause harm to anyone else.

It didn't take long once they left the crowded street the merchants took up for the throngs of people to thin. Two blocks over and the streets held very few onlookers. Jules was extremely curious about the woman with her bright eyes. He wished she'd not try so hard to hide them. Then again, if he could make his own eyes less attractive, he would, so he understood to a degree. He patiently waited to learn where the water was going to come from.

dada_dragon • 9 May 2016 at 1:54 AM

Indigo woke to find herself bound to a metal bar. She was blindfolded and she could feel something like a metal mask covering her mouth. To keep her from breathing fire... she realized.

She was still somewhat under the effects of the chloroform, which left her groggy and slow. She could hear others around her... Some moaning and crying, others laughing and slurring words of insult and offense.

"Hey! The girlie's awake!" yelled one. "Ya think the boss'll let me buy 'er?"

"Nah!" laughed another. "Ya can barely pay fer yer drinks. That'n is gonna be mine. Been savin' up fer a girl 'o me own."

Were they talking... about her?

"So how 'bout that big'n? Looks like he could run straight t'rough a house an' out the other side!"

"You ain't wrong. I saw 'im throw a stall clear 'cross th'market!"

"Yer fibbin' again, Stephen. Ain't no one tha' strong."

Shimon... he was there too... She didn't hear him, but that must be who they were talking about. She tried to call his name, but her words were muffled by the mask.

@bunnyshadow
@asi
@taffy789
@poe
@takatheeducatedkid

bunnyshadow • 9 May 2016 at 3:20 AM

@poe

~~~

Once they were out of sight of any prying eyes, Isale held out her hand, silently asking for whatever container the man had expected her to fill with water. However, she pulled her arm back, instead just reaching into her coat and taking out several glass viles empty of any liquid. The woman considered her next words carefully, before just shoving her hesitation aside. She doubted she would ever see this man again anyway, but still...

"Don't tell anyone." Isale muttered as she knelt down on the cracked ground. She motioned for him to sit as well, and she sat back, ignoring the dirt billowing around from her movements. The woman placed her slim fingers on the ground, poking at the dirt as if she was searching for something. Isale stopped when she felt the soil cave in a bit under her hands.

"There's groundwater here." She said softly, glancing over to the man to see if he was paying attention. The woman doubted it, and it was unlike that knowing where underground water was would be useful to someone like him anyway.

Isale closed her eyes, focusing heavily on the area she had placed her hand on top of. She poked around with her mind until she felt a familiar sensation in her head. The woman opened her eyes and lifted her hand up slightly. Water flooded up from the cracks decorating the floor after a few long seconds. She closed her fist, and the water shot up in the air, sparkling in the sky in an upside down rain of water.

Isale let out a short sigh of relief as the droplets froze midair. She allowed the hail to fall back onto the dusty ground, though the woman filled the glass viles in her hands to the brim. The rest of the ice clattered across the ground, several smaller chunks already melting and seeping back into the earth.

"Here." She said emotionlessly. "Water is rare, I'm sure this is enough for the food you shared with me." Isale glanced off to the side, unsure what to do now that her job was complete, though she prided herself in how long of a sentence she had just managed to form.

taffy789 • 17 May 2016 at 12:11 AM

As soon as Ismene entered the house, two guards flanked her and patted her down.
She squirmed uncomfortably as their flat palms smacked against her hips and ribs; the search was fruitless, of course, as she’d had the sense to store her crossbow in Ariel’s pack.
After a grunt of “all clear”, the hands moved to the small of her back and Ismene was lead- pushed, really- down a long, candle-lit, smoky hallway. Voices wavered out from the ash clouds that swirled thick and graceful over the soft candlelight glow. Gruff, tough, and hardened- the voices lacked the ash’s refinement but held a certain elegance of their own, alternating between jovial laughter and cutting remarks with ease, as if acting out their own well-rehearsed dance. There were manners here; a status quo as rigid as a monarchy’s and just as cutthroat.
The ash conglomerated, all particles spinning tumultuously as Ismene approached the room’s entrance, and she cupped a hand above her eyes to serve as the eyelashes she lacked, to shield her vision from the coarse specks of-
“Look, I wouldn’t care if he’s the only guy who can make chloroform on the entire stinkin’ globe!”
A voice, and by the commanding sound of it, an important one. Ismene held her breath.
“Tell that Stephen fellow if he screws up one more time, his head is going to be next on my wall, got it?”
A quick “Yes, boss”, and a man scuttled past Ismene, brushing against her sleeve as he hurried to escape his boss’s sight.
“Boss?” One guard behind Ismene asked, receiving an impatient “Yes?” in reply, “Somebody’s here to see you.”
The longest three seconds of Ismene life passed until the answer came: “Send them in.”
And Ismene was sent in.
The first thing that stood out to the girl jutted starkly from the wall: the bear’s skull.
Or, she assumed it was a bear’s skull, despite its deformed, dented shape and monstrous, knife-sized teeth. If the stories she heard about Lucky “Lefty” Leroy were correct, however, the skull could be safely assumed to be from a bear, as lacking in all qualities “bearish” as it was. It made her stomach tie up in knots to stare at the snarling skull for too long, so Ismene averted her attention away from the bear and to the other, aliver predators in the room.
Two of Leroy’s cronies sat straight up on a sinking couch, fixated on her every movement as she silently shuffled past them. Ismene tactfully held her chin up and avoided contact with their half-lidded eyes, but she couldn’t avoid the thick, sickening smoke from their burning green tobacco leaves. It would’ve made her dizzy if her lungs weren’t mutated to protect against the stuff, yet her nose still crinkled in disgusted at the burnt, pungent smell.
Ismene continued further into the parlor, her breath stilted as invasive images burst to her conscious, vibrant visions of a fly treading a thin web to meet the spider grinning in the middle. The cluttered space made it difficult for her to maneuver, made her feel even more trapped and claustrophobic, and the general disorder of the abandoned lighters, knives, and empty spam cans scattered about on tabletops did nothing to calm her pounding nerves.
At the end of the room, reclining in a tattered armchair with his wall of animal skulls at his back, the gang leader sat, his boots resting on the small table in front of him while the long, spiny fingers of his left hand tapped out an impatient rhythm.
“Yes?” his husky voice breathed out, reeking of tobacco and cruelty, “And you are here to see me, why...?” He flipped his eyes over her, and Ismene froze under his piercing gaze. Remembering herself, she defrosted and knelt down, allowing awe and deference to soak into her mannerisms. She bowed her head before raising it just enough to get full view of the gaudy, glowing golden rings decorating Leroy's left hand.
“Permission to kiss your rings?” Ismene heard herself saying, and she wished she was anyone but herself for a fast moment.
A pause; Ismene lowered her nose towards the muddied, frayed carpet. She watched as a flea crawled along a split thread, and she shivered.
“No,” came the answer, “But feel free to greet the hook, however~”
The sound of metal clanked against the exposed, torn wood of the recliner’s armrest, and Ismene lifted her head, turning to her left to see the complicated metal contraption jutting out towards her. Filling the space where his right arm should’ve been, a metal monster of a limb glared coldly towards Ismene; she leaned forward and planted her lips against the thing’s hooked grips anyway, taking care not to poke herself. With those formalities out of the way, Ismene stood.
“Take a seat, stranger,” Leroy grunted as way of lazy command, and Ismene lowered herself into the nearest empty sit across from the gang leader in compliance.
“Tell me,” Leroy began, his metal arm thudding a foreboding, booming beat against the armrest, “Why you felt it necessary to come see me directly. It better be good if you insisted on bothering me like this.”
Even while holding her breath, Ismene managed to squeak out a simple answer, “It’s about Oscar Helius, sir.”
“Oh?” Leroy raised an interested eyebrow which quickly fell back into a frown, “Oh. If this is about you paying your debts to him instead of us, then I’m so sorry-” this apology said in a mocking, condescending tone that implied anything but sincerity- “it’s so sad that you were dumb enough to be tricked by such a sleazy character. But the books must be balanced and all debts must be paid to their correct owners… You owe us in full, despite what you gave to that man. No objections, or you’re joining my little collection behind me…”
The skulls glinted behind Leroy, and their empty, black eye sockets bore mirror images of the holes into Ismene… She shuttered, and, letting all the air from her lungs, clarified, “I’m- I’m not here to complain about Oscar Helius. I’m here to buy his freedom.”
Ismene hadn’t met the gang leader’s eyes when she stated this, but by the awkward chuckles made by the two other gang members present, their boss’ face must’ve been comically slacked jawed.
Not wanting herself to be killed for telling jokes, she sobered the mood with a simple but effective statement: “I have what he owes. In supplies and wealth.”
The gang members in the room stopped laughing, and Ismene ventured to look up again.
What she found was the scruffy, ragged, and bearded face of Leroy training his eyes on her.
“You aren’t, by any chance,” he began with a hidden smirk, “Helius’ daughter, are you?”
“Yes,” Ismene admitted, a tingling feeling rushing down to her toes.
Leroy’s cheeks lifted, his smirk upturning into a pleased smile, then an exhilarated grin, before finally bursting into uproarious, irrepressible laughter that decimated the room’s stiff, smoky quiet with its crass, brass intones- “This is perfect, just perfect!”
The laughter boomed, chasing the swirling tobacco fumes from Leroy’s mouth, “Honestly, how didn’t I notice before! Truly, the resemblance is uncanny. Or it would be, had Helius not had, what, left you in the furnace as a child?” He chuckled with giddy abandon at his own joke, “I assume that's what happened anyway, God-! I have one conversation with the guy, rough him up a little, and here I am, already pegging down his track record with this little thing called personal responsibility.”
He continued, “Of course, any man whose child comes to bail him out of trouble is not worth even the most radioactive dung on this godforsaken planet, but when money is involved, I am not one to question anyone’s life choices. So, little girl- what are you anyway, twelve?- whatever your reasoning is, you come to me offering me a bail fee, so here I am, you have my attention, I am listening.”
He spread his arms open and grinned, as if inviting Ismene to share a warm hug, “Show me the money.”
“I don’t…” Ismene faltered, his speech having wounded her, then she said, stronger, “I don’t have everything on my person currently.”
“Ah, of course you don’t.” Leroy’s smile fell, his lips dropping into a deathly flat line. He spat out the next words, “Because you couldn’t possibly pay for his freedom if you tried.”
“I can pay,” Ismene insisted, but she was cut off by Leroy’s snap of, “Your father spent five months hitting every city in our territory pretending to be a Quarantined debt collector. In that period of time, he systematically collected and squandered enough wealth in supplies, food, pack animals, and precious metals to buy not one, not two, but seven mutants on our black market. And even worse, when we caught him, he was so deep in his own poker debt that we couldn’t squeak a cent out of him…”
Leroy reared back to Ismene, attacking her with a, “And you expect me to believe you have enough to your name to possibly repay his debts?”
Ismene caught the gang leader’s eyes as he stared her down, holding his gaze and straightening her spine as she spoke, “Yes, yes I do.”
Leaning back in his recliner, Leroy’s mouth twitched and revealed a full, toothy grin, “Well, let’s hear it then.”

bunnyshadow • 23 May 2016 at 3:56 PM

@dada_dragon
@asi @taffy789
@takatheeducatedkid

~~~

Fang pushed his heels into his horse's sides, forcing a short neigh out of its reined mouth as it trotted uncomfortably into the camp. He kept a rough hand over the two bodies piled atop the dark stallion, and he whistled aimlessly as a guard led him towards the center of a large clearing. Men were crowded in small groups at tables, sitting outside makeshift cabins, and smoking by the barbed walls. He yanked at his black stallion's reins, and the animal halted in compliance.

"What do you have?"

Fang got off the horse, dust billowing as he landed on the ground with a noisy thud. I really need to work on that..., he thought to himself before turning to face the speaking man. His hands reached to pull on the subdued bodies on his horse, and he tugged at the pair. They dropped to the ground noisily, and he hummed in satisfaction at the curious glances he received from nearby men. His brow arched as one of the twins on the floor stirred, and with a nasty glare, he kicked the young man back into submission.

"A shapeshifter and a healer." Fang sung out with a wide grin.

The man in front of him widened his eyes at Fang's claims. "A shapeshifter, eh? I've but only heard of those 'uns. A healer too? Ya got yourself a good pair." There was a wolf whistle from one of the men that had overheard his statements.

"There's no way! I'll believe it when I see it."

Fang turned to see one of the drunken men calling out to him. His brows furrowed in annoyance, as he cracked his knuckles in mild annoyance.

"I'm happy to stay until they wake up. I'd advise tying the one capable of animal mimicry down. He's a wild one." Fang laughed at his little pun, though no one probably understood what he meant. Earlier when he had given chase, the shifter had transformed into some sort of large orange beast, covered in a splattering of black stripes. He watched patiently as the brothers were dragged away, tied up, and chained as well.

"We've got time, boy. C'mhere and join us for a drink."

His dark eyes hovered over to the table of drinkers, and he invited himself over accordingly. Fang was never one to turn down drinks, especially if they were free. He accepted the bottle with a slight nod, though drank it slowly. His stallion meandered around the camp aimlessly, and he kept his guard up as he watched the animal graze a few patches of burnt grass nearby a metal bar. Fang's eyes wandered up the metal bar, where he spotted a prisoner tied up against it. He nearly choked on his drink when he recognized her. The woman was blindfolded, but if he wasn't wrong, it was the same one that had fire breathing capabilities...the one that had burnt the flying stand.

"Hey." Fang called out over the ruckus caused by the drunken men. They silenced for a bit, and he asked a hopeful question. "That woman-" He was cut off by the guy besides him.

"She's mine, I called 'er already."

Fang overlooked ruffian's statement as he began his question once more. "That woman. Where did you find her?"

"O'er by the marketplace. Along with some big ole brute and a cocky teleportin' boy."

Fang scoffed as he finished his beer. Then he chuckled. Not soon after, he started laughing obnoxiously. The looks he received from a few of the Quarantined's men were a bit wary, they were unsure about Fang's sanity now that he was having his short bouts of laughter.

"What are y'all looking at?" He said suddenly. The men shrugged hesitantly before continuing their wayward conversation about some annoying chloroform guy. Fang hummed quietly to himself.

You think you got the best of me, didn't you Arlo?

No doubt he would probably be allowed to trade in his two captives for both Arlo, the man that had abused him in the marketplace and maybe even the fire-breather as well. As soon as the shapeshifter woke up, that is...

Almost as if to echo his words, a loud roar sounded around the camp. Fang smiled as men struggled to their feet in confusion at the sudden noise. Orders were shouted in what he assumed was an attempt to subdue the large animal, and he sat quietly by himself as the men around him headed over to help. From the corner of his eyes, he caught sight of the large animal tearing at its constraints. It tugged at its collar, it's white underbelly illuminating the dirty ground. He cracked open another beer, smirking lightly to himself as he took a small sip of the bitter liquid.

"I told you guys to lock him down." He said to himself with a knowing smirk.

poe • 24 May 2016 at 5:51 PM

The woman held out her hand expectantly a moment, but changed her mind and pulled out her own set of glass vials. Jules was sidetracked considering how she managed to keep those from breaking. A lot of people chose not to use glass because of how breakable it was. He nodded when she asked him not to tell anyone about what she was going to do. His curiosity increased, as well as his readiness for something to go awry. If she gained power from the radiation, she could certainly be more dangerous than she looked, even if Jules felt more inclined to trust her than not.

Jules kept his attention on both her and their surroundings, knowing that it wouldn't be good news for either of them if someone noticed her doing anything unusual. He probably appeared mildly inattentive. His eyebrows quirked up as water spouted from the ground and the woman with her long dark hair filled the vials. Jules didn't know how she made the water rise and then freeze, but he knew it meant she probably wasn't very safe here. He was surprised she was desperate enough for food to demonstrate the mutation. Or was she just too trusting? For all she knew, he could be part of a gang. He took the water she handed to him.

"I'm amazed you'd stop in a place with as much gang activity as this. Are you really traveling alone?" Jules assumed she was alone based on her social skills, or lack thereof. "If I were you, I'd want someone watching my back."

Part of him wanted to suggest traveling together. He wouldn't mind having an extra set of eyes and water in exchange for whatever food and protection he could provide, even if she wasn't a fighter.

takaedakumi • 24 May 2016 at 6:56 PM

Creed found it hard to focus as he came to, the echoing voices around him becoming clearer at a snail's pace. His head pounded with the excruciating pain of a migraine as he shifted uncomfortably in the several layers of chains binding him to a thick iron bar.

"Right..." he grumbled, "how could I have forgotten the mess you landed us in?"

*Sorry about that...* Arlo apologized, but he only evoked an annoyed grunt from Creed in reply.

A stifled cry for Shimon came from not far off, and he could tell from the distance of the sound that they had spaced the three of them out far enough that they wouldn't be able to make any private escape plans. It didn't help that he couldn't see a thing either, since he was apparently blindfolded.

Creed wasn't one to feel too vulnerable even in this situation though, and he was fairly sure that he could get out of this somehow--that is, until an unsettling laughter rang out through the area. He didn't have to think twice to know it was Fang cackling like that, and he knew for sure that it was he who the laughter was directed at. Gritting his teeth behind a cool smirk, he kept his head tilted downward and decided to silently wait for this to play out.

Was this his punishment for associating with Fang in the first place? Regret wasn't his usual way, but Creed was seriously wondering if it had been a good idea to cure his boredom at the other's expense now.

*It figures that your pal would be associated with these guys.* Arlo said, though he decided not to say any more on the subject of Fang, knowing that any hatred the man harbored for Creed now was ultimately his own fault.

dada_dragon • 27 May 2016 at 4:56 PM

Indigo could hear another voice join the jeering masses. She swore she'd heard the voice before, but she couldn't recall where.

Suddenly there was a commotion. The sound of a large animal pervaded the room. She wished she could see what was happening...

If only she had access to an open flame... No, even then she'd be stuck. The metal mask wouldn't be able to contain all of the gas, but some of it would be trapped inside, and if it ignited, she would be burned as well.

She could release the gas from her nose, which remained uncovered to allow her to breathe, but even then, she wouldn't be able to exhale the gas very far...

She tested her bindings... It was thick rope... nearly new, she suspected. If this was the gang headquarters, they would probably have access to the good stuff... And they would be well-prepared when it came to handling people with dangerous abilities... thus the mask.

She didn't like not having many options. She never should have stayed around. As usual, her sympathy had gotten the better of her...

Surely the man would have been capable of handling things on his own... Even before that... she could have refused to reveal her abilities and just kept walking like everyone else...

@bunnyshadow
@poe
@takatheeducatedkid
@asi
@taffy789

taffy789 • 20 June 2016 at 1:51 AM

Ismene took in a deep breath, one tinged with the slightest sound of sadness.
“I know a place where you can get double what you lost in wealth, easily.” She said this carefully, measuring out each word in a slow, steady pace.
Leroy tapped his hook against the armrest. “So, you’re saying that you don’t have this wealth on you?”
“…No,” Ismene admitted, holding his judging gaze, “but I promise, my information is worth it’s weigh in spam cans, trust me-”
“Stop,” Leroy snapped, and Ismene froze solid, mouth closing into a quick, silent line. Slowly, Leroy motioned to the gang members sitting on the couch. “Go get me a tub of water,” he ordered, then allowed a dangerous glint in his expression to flash Ismene’s way, “the direction this conversation appears to be going is making my hook ache. I need to soak it.”
As the gang members shrugged and stood up to fetch a basin, Ismene closed her eyes, considering her options before blurting out, “I can lead you to a mutant camp.”
“Oh, can you?” Leroy exclaimed, eyebrow raising, “What, do you mean to tell me that you’ve memorized a map to Eden sometime along your journeys with your useless father?”
“Not. Eden.” Ismene clenched at the frayed edges of her hoodie, her fists curling up tightly near her pocket seams, “Another camp. Plenty of mutants. More undefended. More…” Ismene closed her eyes, as if it could block out the powerful memories flashing in her head- “Real.”
Leroy looked at Ismene. His eyes flickered up and down her, soaking in every expression, every inflection of tone.
“I… don’t disbelief you,” he judged, giving an uncommitted shrug, “but I don’t trust you, either, dear.”
One leg was thrown over the other as he shifted in his recliner, and Leroy leaned forward, concentrating completely on the girl. Nicotine fumes rolled off his tongue as he asked, “Helius’ daughter? Do you want to hear a story?”
Not in any position to refuse, Ismene barely nodded, and sunk deeper into her seat as if she were a pillbug curling protectively into itself.
Smiling a soft, wicked grin, Leroy leaned back into his cushioned throne.
“Girl, I have a… particular hatred for mutants.”
Ismene tried not to show any emotion from that beginning statement, and she remained composed as the gang leader continued, “Allow me to explain. When I was younger, a few years older than you, I was working for animal trappers in the poisonous remains of a shelled forest. It was secluded, and our little work force seemed to be the only humans for miles around. We assumed it was safe. But…” Leroy lifted his brown irises towards Ismene, “Were you aware that animals could be just as mutated by radiation as humans could? Because we weren’t; we’d never expected a beast that strong, no.”
The stories she’d heard about Lucky “Lefty” Leroy came flooding back into Ismene, clogging up every sense like a smothering chloroform cloth and humming about her brain, choking it.
“The bear.” She gasped out, realizing what story he was recounting for her.
“I…” Leroy frowned, “Wouldn’t exactly call that monster a bear. But you’ve heard the stories, it seems, and that’s what everyone calls it for convenience, so, yes, I suppose it can be a ‘bear’ in this story. I don’t know of any regular bear that can bite a full grown man in half with one chomp, but sure, that mutant monstrosity was a ‘bear’.”
Ismene stared, a gulp of air making a hard lump as it moved down her throat. “I’ve heard this story, yeah. The b- monster. It… killed your entire crew. Bite off your arm. And then you managed to kill it, right?”
“You’re not exactly the best audience,” Leroy huffed in annoyance, “but yes, that is the story I was attempting to tell to you, summed up and unexciting, thank you.”
“Sorry,” Ismene amended, “I didn’t mean to-”
“Stop,” he silenced her again, and that moment was when the two gang members entered, holding a deep basin of water. Ismene watched them carefully as they moved towards her and plopped it on the short table between her and Leroy. The water splashed over the edges of the metal tub as they set it down with little care.
“But,” Leroy continued, eying the basin, an unreadable expression glinting across his cheeks, “That’s not even the most important part of my story.”
He stood from his chair and, moving briskly, walked around the table to slid next to Ismene on her couch.
She immediately inched to her left to escape him, but the sudden hand digging deep into her shoulder drove her to a flinching halt.
“I killed the beast that took my arm. Survived the blood loss and took its head as my trophy. I carried that both that trophy and a thirst for more mutant blood with me, and those things alone took me far, further than I could have. Ever. Imagined. Apparently, government contractors are willing to fund those who are apt at mutant hunting- can you imagine that?” The hand dug deeper into Ismene’s collarbone, and she closed her eyes, tight, to shut out the pain.
“It seems,” Leroy chuckled, darkly, “that the moral of my story is one I learned the hard way. Even though you hate something, it doesn’t stop you from being able to enjoy the profit it brings~”
Ismene tried- she really tried- to pull away before Leroy’s hand forced her head downwards, but she couldn’t break free.
Her face was pushed, submerged under water- held in the overflowing basin on the table in front of her.
She broke free once, resurfacing with an aching gasp, but two other sets of hands were quick to grip her neck and hold her under again. Water filled her lungs- liquid, not air, pumping down her throat with every gasp- she couldn’t breathe- she couldn’t scream or cry for help-!
Then, a burning, rippling sensation shot up her neck, blinding Ismene with the way the pain made her vision fuzzy. The choking lessened even as her neck burned as if held in a fire. Just as she became able to catch her breath again, just as oxygen began to return to her body- she was pulled cruelly out of the water and left gagging on the surface as the flames scorched up her neck again.
Immediately, her clenched hand shot up to cover the newly grown gills present on the side of her neck, but it was too late for any secrecy.
Leroy and his goons stared down at the girl- a particularly murderously pleased expression gracing the gang leader’s face.
“You and your scummy father must be related, dear Ismene,” the man grinned, leaning in close to where the girl lay, gasping as her gills began to disappear, “You both are quick to sing all about the mutants you know when in trouble, it seems.”
Ismene gripped a tighter hand around her neck, trying not to focus too hard on the meaning behind the man’s words.
Leroy turned to the other two gang members present. “Lock her downstairs, for now. I’ll question her about the mutant camp she mentioned sometime later. Right now, we have other mutants to sell, right?”
Leroy’s smug face was the last thing Ismene saw before the chloroform coated cloth descended over her mouth and everything. Went. Black.