Things around the compound were just getting worse, but Tox no longer had the energy or the inner strength to do anything about the situation. He was just going through the motions now, not caring about what he or anyone else was doing. He just wanted to find something, anything that might take this crushing weight off of his chest, but there was nothing and everytime that realization came crashing down on him he just got more angry. His lashing out at the others at the compound was becoming more extreme, but it wasn't until he nearly burned someone with his acid that he saw just how far he had fallen.
"If I catch you lighting things on fire that are NOT firewood or related to cooking," he growled threatening at Pyro, whom he had in a firm grip by the front of the boy's shirt, "I will give you something far worse than a warning." The fire wielding male was glaring back at him defiantly, and he could feel his anger rising until he suddenly realized how hot his hand was becoming...
With a loud and colorful bout of cursing, Tox let Pyro go, practically shoving the guy away from him, and stalked off with his hands clenched tightly into fists. He made his way towards a tower of wooden crates near the kitchen and paced restlessly as he tried to calm himself down. His control was slipping, the control he had worked so hard to maintain ever since Kimiko had died. He felt ashamed, furious...and even afraid. He was terrified of what he was capable of, and he wasn't sure if he would ever be able to get things back under control.
Someone called his name from behind him and Tox whirled around to face them.
"What?!" he snapped, his brown eyes ablaze as he scowled at the young woman standing there, stammering out something about new supplies coming in, "Just grab whoever you can and get them unloaded. Now beat it!" The girl hurried off without another word, leaving him there feeling as though he had the word MONSTER tattooed on his forehead.
Pinching the bridge of his nose tightly between thumb and forefinger, Tox sat down heavily atop a wooden crate. This had to stop, and he knew it. He couldn't continue functioning like this. His heart felt shattered into a million pieces, his chest an empty void that he could never fill, but if he couldn't find some way to get past it then this whole place was going to go up in flames...possibly literally. He had to let go, he had to let himself feel what he needed to feel, purge his system so to speak. He had to let things run their course, no matter how much it hurt.
"I need to lie down," he muttered to himself, his entire body feeling like it could sag right to the ground, "Come on, Fang." It was the first time he had actually acknowledged his familiar in weeks, not that it was necessary. His serpentine companion was where he always was, curled around his arm, currently hissing in a soft and comforting tone. Nodding, he stood up and walked back across the courtyard towards the dorms.
Creativity
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Posted: 10/5/2018 at 6:37 PM
Post #182
If she was being perfectly honest - and when wasn't she? - Trace found the recent state of the compound utterly hilarious. She was truly enjoying the chaos. There were fights everywhere, people snapping at each other, strained relationships, nothing getting done, and Snake Man yelling at people left and right. Honestly, if she had known that him being locked in a shipping container for a night would make him like this, she would have done it to him years ago.
Yes, she was most definitely having fun with this. She could get away with picking fights more, with disregarding other people as much as physically possible aside from the few she had selected as friends, such as Crypt, Holo, Jelly, Copy, and such.
She rounded a corner just in time to see Tox snap at Script. The girl, not even five foot tall, had always been helpful, but timid. She scurried off in terror at his shout, and Trace couldn't help a smirk on her own face.
One of her hands ran through her short hair and she approached him. "Ya know, Snake Man, I really like what ya done with the place. Bloody oath," she baited him, laughing. "I always knew ya were a drongo, but now ya really gone crook."
She knew she was provoking him. It was intentional. She had wanted for a while now to give him a good one. Perhaps today would be her lucky day when she'd finally get to take down his authority. Anarchy was her belief.
Britters
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Posted: 10/5/2018 at 11:27 PM
Post #183
The last thing Tox needed...the absolute last thing, was to have someone try to pick a fightbwith him. Of course, based on the inherent laws of the universe, that's exactly what happened as he was in the process of walking back to his room. He had decided that it was time for him to let his feelings out, to despair over his broken heart and try to let the wound heal instead of fester. He didn't know if it would help him to move on, but he knew that what he'd been doing wasn't working and at this point he would try anything.
So why did the universe seem determined to keep him from his goal?
"Look," he said, his tone low and dangerous, not even turning around to face his adversary right away, "I really don't have time for this right now. Whatever problems you have with me will have to wait." The entire time he spoke, his fists clenched and unclenched, and that flame of fury thst always seemed to be inside was itching to spark up.
Slowly, Tox turned around to look at the person who had spoken to, as though the accent and foreign slang words weren't enough of a clue. Trace had been one of those people who was a perpetual thorn in his side. She despised authority, and therefore her grudge against him ran deep. He was sure she'd been enjoying watching the chaos and disorder happening around the compound lately. He ground his teeth just thinking about her laughing about the havoc and occasional violence. Suddenly, he just couldn't stand the sight of her.
"You are so useless," he said to her, sneering WA the words left his mouth, "I wish those quack scientists would let me suggest names for their more fatal experiments so I could get rid of some of the trash around here. Why don't you just get out of my way and go play with your mutt?" He practically spat the last word out, implying things about her being a mutt as well, no more significant than a dog.
There was regret as soon as Tox sank his fangs into her so to speak, much like he had regretted saying the things he'd said to Brain. However, he could feel his fiery anger flaring to life, and it would not be put out easily. If the universe didn't want him to mope around then he would simply fight back tooth and nail, and pity anyone who tried to get in his way.
Creativity
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Posted: 10/6/2018 at 12:12 AM
Post #184
It was true, Trace had been expecting Tox to fight back. He wasn't the type of person to lie low and take a beating. She was wanting him to fight back, even. What fun would there be if he just walked away, embarrassing himself and letting her win? No forfeit win was really worth the struggle. However, she hadn't quite expected him to bite back as sharply or as deeply as he did.
At first, she wanted to laugh. It looked like the dingo wasn't all talk. He used to preach organization, but the very fact that he was snapping at her when he had controlled himself so well before told her that something had changed in him, and he was, in a word, moping.
When his words hit her, her first instinct was to strike him, and she did so, slugging him as hard as she could in the jaw. There was a feeling of triumph in her at having finally completed that goal. His words didn't sting. She had grown too thick of skin for petty insults, such as calling her useless, to have an impact. It was the mutt comment that pushed her over the edge.
'You're nothing more than my precious little mutt. You are mine, and you always will be. My darling little bloodhound... Your paws grow dirtier with every task. But you know you love it, filthy creature. You know you love me.'
After striking him, her rage was still bright. She glared at him and then spat at his feet. "Grow a pair. Whatever Hell ya think lets ya act like this, Mongrel, is Heaven compared to what I known." Then, for good measure, she socked him again.
Britters
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Posted: 10/6/2018 at 1:38 PM
Post #185
As he stood there, staring hard at Trace, Tox could still taste the venom of the words he'd spoken to her in his mouth. It had been so long since he'd let his rage overcome him so intensely, and the feeling of the slow burn building up into an inferno inside his belly was more pleasant than it should have been. He had worked so diligently to try and cool down his hotheaded temper, but it seemed it had all been for naught. Here he was, verbally attacking someone who was only trying to bait him in the first place and feeling his hands itching to be put into action.
When the first blow came, Tox's first thought was how much power Trace's lean body could pack into a single punch, though perhaps he shouldn't be so surprised. His grandfather had always taught him that it was not the size of the fighter that mattered, but the strength inside that made the difference. Pain blossomed across his jaw where her fist impacted, knocking his head sideways rather ferociously. His body naturally assumed a defensive stance, preparing for another assault, but he realized almost immediately that his mind was no longer in the fight.
The pain, the physical reality of it, had jarred Tox in a way that went beyond the discomfort he felt. It had grounded him, bringing him back down to earth and out of the dark cloud he'd been living in the last three weeks. His thoughts whirred around in his head as he realized just how much destruction he'd caused around the compound. He had failed. He had failed Kicker, and Brain, and everyone here and he had also failed. He hadn't wanted to be the leader, but by stepping up and taking on that role he had made a commitment and he had failed to honor it.
"You're right," he said, the strength leaving his legs so that he had to lower himself to the ground, "God, what was I thinking?" He wasn't paying much attention to what Trace was saying, but he'd heard the first bit ('Grow a pair...') loud and clear.
The second blow was almost a relief, a welcomed source of the reality check Tox so desperately needed. He made no move to fight back, but merely looked up at Trace and gave her a nod of gratitude. He was sure she had no idea what she had just done for him but he didn't want it to go unacknowledged. He picked himself up off the ground, ignoring the mud which now stained his pants and proceeded towards the infirmary. He was embracing the pain, but the swelling needed to be dealt with.
Creativity
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Posted: 10/6/2018 at 2:17 PM
Post #186
The past three weeks had been...interesting for Wire, and that was the most generic word she could use to describe it. The medication that Brain was able to acquire for her had worked wonders, and she was out of the infirmary within a week. Another week, and she was fully recovered. The best way they could describe it was an intense, elongated allergic reaction; after all, she had an allergy to bee stings, and the creature could be related somewhat to a bee, although slightly different in shape and much different in colors.
However, since Wire had been out of the infirmary, Reach had grown... distant, almost. After that day when Brain and Tox were released from the shipping container, as Wire was told of it, Brain had grown moodier and more isolated. She had completely abandoned all responsibilities at the infirmary as Tox slacked on his leadership and more people got in fights, resulting in more occupancy within the building.
And then Reach had decided to take over Brain's responsibilities. She spent more time in the infirmary, and even when she wasn't tending to someone, she was busy doing something else. Granted, she didn't quite have the resources that Brain did - no one really knew where Brain got it - but she was still spending very little time for pleasure.
By extension, Wire herself was spending more time in the infirmary, trying to talk to Reach, who was usually too busy. Now, she approached the smaller girl again, trying to spend some time with her. It hurt more than she wanted to admit, this sudden distance. She almost wondered if it was her fault for getting so sick. Maybe Reach had grown tired of her.
"How about a walk? You are stressed. You need to relax."
-
Trace was left almost dumbfonded when Tox fell to his knees, looking as if he had just experienced some divine revelation, gave her a nod which almost seemed thankful - something that she did not understand in the slightest - and then walked off towards the infirmary. He hadn't even fought back. He had admitted to her being right. Where was that bite that he had just shown to her?
She sighed and turned away, figuring she'd seek out Crypt to tell her about the encounter. However, a dry cough from the right of her reminded her of the actual mutt that she was saddled with. She glanced at Kutta with a raised eyebrow.
The dog had been in a bad shape recently. It had been coughing for a week now, had grown weaker, and would pant more often for no reason. Trace rolled her eyes as the creature coughed again. It was getting annoying, especially when Kutta would cough at night, which happened quite a bit.
Submitting to what was probably the right thing, Trace decided to seek out Howl. Despite being out of the way of the commotion of the compound, he really wasn't very hard to find. It was a spot he was found in quite often, and even now, he was just relaxing with his familiar and eating, which seemed to be a favorite pastime of his.
"My thing broke," she stated rather than greet him, nudging Kutta forward. Her own chest was hurting a little, and she reminded herself to visit the doctors later for a refill on her medication.
Edited By Creativity on 10/6/2018 at 2:17 PM.
Britters
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Posted: 10/6/2018 at 3:35 PM
Post #187
For those that knew her well, and frankly there weren't many here at the compound that did, it was obvious that Reach was a different person when she was working in the infirmary. She was confident and decisive and there didn't appear to be a timid bone in her petite body. Even she was a little surprised that, despite the traumas and horrors she had faced at her previous job as a wartime nurse, she felt so comfortable here. She truly was in her element here and after everything that had happened in such a very short time, it felt good to be useful at something.
When Flora had returned with Brain that morning three weeks ago, Reach remembered feeling so relieved that her knees had felt weak and she'd needed to sit down. She was so wrapped up in getting Wire back on her feet, that for the next week she hadn't given much notice to the changes that had began around the compound. Brain had practically quarantined herself, and Tox had gone on a tyrannical rampage. She hardly felt capable of doing anything about the latter, so instead she had decided to pick up her redheaded friend's slack in the infirmary, which was now busier than ever.
"Wire, dove," she said patiently, not looking up from her notepad, "I'm just a touch busy at the moment. I can understand why it never felt necessary to keep records around here, but given the state of things lately it seems prudent to start compiling more individual information, like allergies." She glanced up and peered poignantly at her friend over to tops of her glasses, and for s moment she felt quite awful.
The truth was, part of why Reach had practically leapt at the opportunity to devote more of her time to the infirmary was because it gave her an excuse to put some distance between herself and Wire so she had room to think. She had tried to get Brain to talk to her a few times in the last few weeks, but besides managing to get the other woman to help her acquiring the periodic bottle of antibiotics or some other specific medical supply, the redhead had remained stoically quiet. It felt almost like a betrayal to admit she felt somewhat relieved at Brains continued isolation.
What Reach had seen in that predawn time when she had touched Wire's bare hand and looked into her past troubled her. She had only meant to use her ability to determine if her friend survived her illness, but she had seen so much more than that. It wasn't the idea of being romantically involved with Wire that had caused her to put up a wall between them, for she was a beautiful woman and Reach had no qualms about being attracted to another female. The problem was she didn't know how she was supposed to act around Wire now. She was afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing, afraid to tell her friend what she had seen. The future was so tenuous, and there was a part of her that didn't want to ruin their chance at that rooftop.
Reach sighed, and put her notepad down.
"I'll tell you what," she said to her friend, smiling softly, "If no one comes in by the time I finish writing this report we'll take Darcy and Mbali for an outing. Fair?" Her heart ached to think about the pain she might be causing Wire by distancing herself, and she hated that she wasn't sure if she could ever tell Wire why she was doing it, but until she figured out how to proceed it was the way things had to be.
-----
Sandwiches, in Howl's totally unbiased opinion, were the best food item in the world. Just two pieces of bread and you could turn any meal into a sandwich. Not only was this relatively simple process, lacking no real skill requirement, the sandwich method also a person to conveniently get a little bit of all the food on their plate with every bite. Simple and effective, which made it the perfect vehicle for food. It was while he was piling chicken and potatoes into two robust pieces of fresh bread that Trace approached him.
At first, Howl didn't say anything to her. He sat on the ground, observing her while she stood there with her familiar. He took in information and details about both of them, including the way her short, dark hair was sticking up slightly as though she had been running her hands through it. The familiar, Kutta he knew without Trace telling him (which he noted she didn't), did seem to not be feeling well, and he already had his suspicions. However, he knew he'd have to proceed delicately, and besides that he wanted to keep her talking to him.
"Pretty sure that's a canine, not a thing," he said casually, placing the top piece of bread on his sandwhich, "Also you're going to have to be more specific than 'broke' if you expect me to fix her." He took a rather large bite out of his sandwich,
chewing as he gazed at her amiably.
The bloodhound, Kutta, was giving Howl sporadic information as he ate, but she seemed distracted and hesitant. From his experience, which was extensive given how long he'd been here, familiars were not comfortable just giving him private information about their human companions unless there was a pressing reason. If Kutta was ill, the logical theory would be that Trace was also ill, for there was a physical connection between people and their familiars which was often overlooked or forgotten about. What was confusing to him was the fact that Trace did not appear to be sick at all.
"Why don't you sit down?" he offered, even though he had no seat to offer her, swallowing his first bite and quickly taking another, "Have you eaten already?" He felt a nudge at his elbow, and realized Chap had been waiting expectantly for his tidbit, and he quickly tore of a bit of sandwich and handed it to the silver wolf.
Edited By Britters on 10/7/2018 at 8:42 PM.
Creativity
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Posted: 10/7/2018 at 11:50 PM
Post #188
The fact that she was fatally ill with heart disease was perhaps the thing that Trace was the most bitter about in her life - and, if anyone knew her at all, they knew that she was an extremely bitter person in general. Her heart disease, though, was, to her, a constant reminder of the hold that Mantis had over her. She had gotten close to escaping that iron grasp. She was almost halfway to her goal that would rid her of that constant reminder when they physically captured her once again and took her to another one of their awful facilities. If she was being truthful, however, this prison was paradise compared to Capsule.
An involuntary shudder ran down her spine at the thought of the place. There was nowhere that she feared or loathed more than Capsule. She was drawn back into the present day, though, by Howl finally responding to her.
His response was far from the "Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo" she was hoping for.
"It's a she?" she asked in surprise, then rolled her eyes and decided to continue. "Whatever. Not like it matters anyhow. It coughs and keeps me up. It's always rooted. Don't get me started on that awful panting. It's bloody exhausting."
Honestly, she wanted to be rid of the dog. If she could just kind of drop it off somewhere, she definitely would in a heartbeat. However, hurting the dog hurt her, out of some twisted, agonizing logic.
She was caught off guard by his following questions, showing actual concern. In truth, she had started to feel a bit worse, and was almost tempted to ditch the conversation and go to the doctors immediately. It certainly didn't feel like a heart attack, but she found it best to be cautious. Still, his questions were a bit disconcerting, and she really wanted to blow them off.
Her arms crossed around her and she shifted uncomfortably, being sure to make her wedding ring very visible out of some defense mechanism, although she wasn't completely aware of why. "I'm fine."
Edited By Creativity on 10/8/2018 at 12:31 AM.
Britters
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Posted: 10/8/2018 at 10:30 PM
Post #189
Almost nothing could stop Howl once he started eating. For him eating was the best activity. The obvious reasoning was simply that he had grown up almost constantly hungry, and now while he was here at the compound he never found himself hungry. Sure, the food wasn't top notch, but he didn't need gourmet food, and to his taste buds this simple fare was perfect. He loved eating and that was why he was usually found eating in a secluded spot in the courtyard instead of with the crowd. He didn't like to be interrupted, but this thing with Trace and her familiar intrigued him.
"Yeah, definitely a girl," he said, his tone still low and casual as he peered up at her with his gilded silver eyes, "I'm not exactly a vet, but let me see what I can do." He set his plate of food and leaned forward slightly against his folded legs and looked directly at Kutta.
The ability to communicate with animals was not as straight forward as most people thought it was. Animals had their own languages just as people did, and it always took Howl some time to learn a specific creature's dialect. The advantage with the familiars was that they were all smarter than the average and as such they more or less spoke as clearly as a human did. He gazed into the bloodhounds warm brown eyes and tried to coax the information he needed out of her. It was slow going.
Do you know why you're sick?
Can't say.
Does it have something to do with Trace?
Can't say.
Are you going to answer any of my questions?
No.
There was a sudden breakthrough as Trace's comment about being "fine" sparked a comment from her familiar (Liar...), and Howl jumped at it.
So she is sick isn't she?
Can't say.
If you tell me I might be able to help both of you. Can you at least tell me what hurts?
...Heart.
That was enough, and Howl smiled with satisfaction as he leaned back. He glanced briefly at his plate of food, and with a twinge of regret he told Chap he could have the rest and that the wolf was to stay hete until he got back. There were usually some leftovers, and he had made a point of ingratiating himself with the people normally on kitchen duty so he should have no trouble getting a little more food later. Besides, this was definitely important.
"Alright," he said to Trace as he stood up and dusted off his pants, "I have something that will help her coughing but it's in my room. If you're interested then follow me." He nodded in the direction of the dorms and took a few small steps in that direction, wondering if she'd follow.
Edited By Britters on 10/8/2018 at 10:31 PM.
Creativity
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Posted: 10/8/2018 at 10:56 PM
Post #190
The makeup process had taken longer than Brain had expected, and she had even gotten a tad bit restless near the end of it. She wasn't a naturally restless person, but this whole concept of applying and wearing makeup was foreign to her. It felt as if someone was spreading a mask over her. After her face was done, however, Jelly forced her into some slightly more revealing clothing.
Although Brain was able to keep the long sleeves she demanded, more of her neck and shoulders were exposed - making it look more like a casual frilly blouse - and promptly dusted with concealer to remove any dappling. Once that was finished, Jelly insisted that hair was next.
So more time was spent as a ragdoll for the small liquidify-able Malayan girl. Oddly enough, Brain actually didn't mind her hair being done. It felt strangely good as Jelly combed through the curls and begun to braid parts of it, leaving the majority down. Briefly, Brain wondered if perhaps this was what it felt like to have a mother do her hair as a child - for that was what she felt like.
After what seemed like forever, Jelly bounced up and down in excitement and then handed a small mirror to her. "Look at you!" she gasped, delicate hands over her mouth in glee.
Brain did.
And she wasn't quite sure how to react. Her first thought was Wrong. This is wrong. There was not a freckle - her signature marking - in sight. Her eyelashes were darkened, and there was a slight golden touch around her eyes that brought out the green in them. Her cheeks were free of any blemish, smoothly blushed to be just enticing enough to draw attention. She swallowed hard, trying to speak, but her throat was suddenly sandpaper.
"You made me almost p-pretty..." she managed.
-
It was Wire's belief that everyone bore the marks of the past they had endured. Her own childhood had not been overly traumatic - she had watched many, many movies, and she knew of all the drama one's childhood could contain. However, her own childhood had pressed upon her a sense of needing control. She didn't quite need to control others, but herself. She had never been fond of the idea of dictatorial authority because of that. Her free will was her most valued possession.
It irked her, then, how little control she had over her own emotions. When Reach would blow her off, it hurt. Perhaps more than it should have. Although she knew that Reach probably wasn't mad at her for getting sick, but some part of her still thought that those few days were the catalyst for Reach's odd behavior.
She was a little crushed at Reach's first answer. She was a "touch busy". Well, she was always a "touch busy". Wire glared down at the notepad Reach was so focused on, wishing she could understand what the written words said. If it hadn't been explained to her, she'd have no idea what her friend was even doing.
She perked up a little, then, at Reach's halfway suggestion. Wire grinned, happy to have been shown at least some effort to have their friendship maintained and healthy by the other party. "Well, we have already had many in today. Maybe they all ran out of fight for the day," she suggested brightly.
-
After a minute or two, both Howl and Kutta got very quiet. He had even placed his beloved food, which he seemed so utterly attached to for some odd reason, aside to focus purely on the mutt. There was a silent exchange going on between the two of them, and Trace wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but this certainly made her antsy.
She didn't like it. Unfortunately, even she had to accept that she was bound to her familiar by some unknown force on the island - perhaps the scientists, she didn't know. But where-ever she was, the dumb mutt was, too. And for all she knew, the dog had more information about her than she did about it, and this very moment, the creature could be divulging her secrets to Howl.
It was unnerving. Add this newfound anxiety at the unheard interaction to her already quickly-beating heart and a general suspicion of anyone and everyone, and the result is a form of panic.
If only to try to interrupt the conversation, Trace followed her instinct and kicked the dog. It wasn't as hard as she could have kicked it, but she still caused a small yelp of surprise and successfully broke the connection which, apparently, had already ended.
She tightened her arms around her chest some more as the pain increased minimally and scowled. Without saying anything, she followed behind him, wanting nothing more than to be rid of the annoying canine. If he could get Kutta out of her way, then she was more than happy to follow him to his room, with the dog trailing behind with that mournful look it always wore.
Edited By Creativity on 10/8/2018 at 11:28 PM.
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