There was a very serious problem which Tox was currently facing...the inability to breathe. His lungs were crying out for air, but it was as though his body had forgotten what to do. The only thing he seemed capable of doing was standing there and staring at Brain, too many emotions toiling about in his mind to be readable on his face. He probably looked a right fool at the moment, his brown eyes blank because he couldn't figure out how to feel, his mouth slightly open.
Inside, however, everything was in an uproar. His mind felt like a tornado, his heart beat wildly in his chest, and his stomach was doing some awful sort of dance that made him feel like he was going to be sick. It wasn't right...any of it! The fact that Brain had clearly had a makeover was wrong, and not because she didn't look outstanding (because she did!), but because it wasn't her. It was a mask she had felt the need to put on, and it made him want to scream. He had done this to her, he had made her become this...other person. He had driven her into...into...
"Holo," he said, the name feeling like acid in his mouth as he fumbled for more words, "Its...a pleasure." Yes, he thought furiously to himself, a pleasure to imagine his hands around the other guy's throat. It felt as though his tongue were stuck to the roof of his mouth, the effort to speak had been that great.
Despite his profound anger at the situation, in the back of his mind Tox knew that he shouldn't be upset. This was exactly what he had wanted, for Brain to move on with her life and forget about him. He just had not anticipated his reaction to seeing it with his own eyes. Seeing the arm of another man wrapped possessively around her was nothing short of offensive to all of his senses. It should be his arm, because she was his! Of course, just before he actually blurted out such a statement, he reminded himself that he had made the decision to let her go for her own safety. Her being with Holo was for the best...and he would just have to learn to live with it.
"I hope you've been well, Brain," he said, his tone clipped and formal in an attempt to keep himself under control, "I'm glad that you seem happy." He wasn't glad at all, and probably never would be again, but he had to try and let go...though at the moment it felt like the effort might kill him.
-----
An important fact to consider is that Howl was by no means shy about interacting with women. There may not have been many opportunities to do so while he had been living on the streets, but wasn't entirely unfamiliar with the concept. All of that being the case, he was beginning to find himself a little dumbfounded when he was around Trace. Her personality was spectacularly outgoing. She had vivacity that he found wildly attractive, and she was simply stunning in her own, edgy way.
"Uh...," he started stupidly, feeling as thought his mind had gone utterly blank for a moment, "Yeah, but..." He found himself staring at Trace's hand upon his shoulder, and he was aware of his heart beating somewhat erratically. Just as he was starting to wonder what exactly was wrong with him...
Snap out of it, idiot!
This came from Kutta, of course, and the bloodhound was absolutely right. This was absurd, and Howl did his very best to gather his thoughts back together. Trace was clearly very excited about her plan, and when she shook him it seemed to knock some sense back into him. He felt his mind sharpen, felt his focus return. What she was proposing was certainly interesting, and potentially very useful as far as what they might learn. Of course, it wouldn't really have mattered to him whether there was a potential benefit to the mission, since he had already resolved to accompany her regardless.
"I'm not afraid of danger," he finally said, sitting up a little straighter, "If you think you can get us in then I'm game, but whats your plan?" There was still some trepidation in the back of his mind, but he knew that even if he allowed her to go by herself or with a different companion that he would spend the entire time worrying about her. The problem was...he was having trouble understanding why.
Edited By Britters on 10/14/2018 at 2:09 AM.
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Posted: 10/14/2018 at 10:22 AM
Post #202
There was no doubt that the past few weeks had been rough for Brain, but she feared that they had been almost rougher for her companion. Thor wasn't doing well nowadays. It wasn't that he was sick, oh no. He just seemed... depressed, in a way. He was exhausted all the time, and hardly ever played anymore. If he did, it was for no more than a few seconds before he lost the energy that used to be so prominent in his vivacious personality. Even now, he was on the ground, laying on his back with his paws curled over his chest and all of his curiosity and joy gone from his face.
She was worried about him. However, she knew that there was a direct link between her familiar and her. As long as she was in this state, he likely would be, too. That thought hurt her, because she saw no clear end to her situation. She was hoping that her makeover and her being with Holo would help the both of them, but nothing had changed. If anything, it got a little worse.
Her eyes flashed as Tox mentioned how happy she seemed. But she knew better than anyone else that a smile could hide so much pain in it. At least her acting job was working well enough to fool him, she consoled herself.
"You know my thoughts on emotions," she told him dryly, but forced her smile back on her face.
"Yeah," Holo laughed that obnoxious cocky-boy chuckle that he had. "Who'd have known that, if you made her face all one color and got rid of those embarrassing freckles, slapped some mascara on her, pulled the hair out of her face, and put her in some more appealing clothing, she might at least resemble something attractive?"
Brain couldn't help but wince at his hidden insult, though she did her best to hide it.
-
The thing about Trace was, when she got hooked on an idea, there was no force in the world that could stop her from pursuing it. From the moment she heard the scientists' conversation, she knew that whatever it was they wanted to keep from her, she was going to get into. Come hell or high water, there was no stopping her now that her mind was made up.
If she was being honest, she didn't really have much of a plan. She had always been a more spontaneous type - stab first, ask questions later - but that wasn't to say that she went places unprepared for a fight. Before she gave him an answer, though, she sat down beside him. In truth, she didn't really care for plans as much; with a plan, one loses some of that original passion that served as the motivation for the adventure.
Sitting beside Howl, Trace took off one of her boots. She reached inside it and pulled out a makeshift shiv, this one composed of a rock that she had spent two weeks sharpening some time ago, with napkins wrapped around one end as a handle, and hair ties keeping the napkins tightly in place.
"Rule one: Never go anywhere without a weapon," she told him earnestly and handed him the tool. She then took off her other boot and dug in that one, pulling out another shiv. This one was covered with napkins on the blade, though. She carefully unwrapped the napkins and tossed them aside, revealing a sharp glass shard with pieces of a shirt forming the handle, held down securely with rubber bands.
She showed it to Howl with a grin. "Or a few weapons," she nodded before wrapping the napkin back around and securing it under the rubber bands, and then tucking the small weapon safely into her bra.
"There's heaps of guards here, yeah. But ya stick with me, and we won't fail. I ain't the smartest, but fair dinkum? I bloody well know how to work a weapon," she promised him.
Britters
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Posted: 10/14/2018 at 4:35 PM
Post #203
The connection between person and familiar was something that none of them still fully understood. There had been plenty of theories made throughout the years, some of which had even been tested. It was hard to understand exactly what caused the connection considering that they also still didn't understand where the familiars came from to begin with. For the most part it was a welcome addition to the experience of being trapped here at the compound, though there were some people who regarded the familiars as more of a nuisance than anything else.
For Tox's part, he appreciated Fang's presence, even if he didn't act like it some of the time. If he was being honest, the vivid red cobra's personality actually reminded him a lot of his grandfather, but maybe that was him projecting. At any rate the serpent was useful in that he often was able to keep him from doing stupid things, and it definitely added to his intimidating image to have a snake constantly wrapped around his arm. If Fang ever felt the effects of Tox's emotional turmoil, and he probably did, the cobra kept it to himself. With the way his brain was spinning right now he was surprised Fang wasn't letting on that he felt anything.
There was the too familiar rage still smoldering inside of him, but Tox was too focused on Brain at the moment to feed the fire. She was smiling, putting on a happy face, but something still seemed...off. He didn't think she really felt that good about her relationship with Holo, but he reminded himself that it wasn't his place to care anymore. If this was what she had to do to move on with her life then that had to be fine with him. When Holo's comment reached his ears, however, his carefully cultivated control nearly slipped dramatically.
"Yes," he said through gritted teeth, the intense pressure from Fang suddenly coiling tightly around his arm the only thing that kept him from grabbing Holo and punching him right in his stupid face, "It's unbelievable. I'm afraid I have to go now." He was beginning to see red, and knew he had to remove himself from the situation quickly before Fang was no longer able to hold him back.
With a curt nod, Tox turned on his heels and fast walked away from Brain and the rest of them. By the time he reached his hidden spot behind the compound, his breath was coming in deep, furious gasps, and his muscles were practically vibrating with barely contained tension. He paced back and forth, like a caged tiger longing to strike out at something, feeling as though he might actually explode. Finally, he just couldn't bare it any longer. He gave a mighty shout of frustration and despair, and rammed his fist as hard as he could at the stone wall.
The pain was crazy intense, and Tox vaguely wondered whether he might have fractured something, but he embraced the pain like an old friend, letting it center and overwhelm him so that it was all he felt...
-----
Intelligence was not something that Howl lacked. He had acquired an abundance of knowledge and life experiences during his time on the streets. He had learned a long time ago, however, that curiosity wasn't particular useful when you spent everyday defending your life and few possessions. It was always better to just keep your head down and worry about only yourself. That was one of the golden rules his mentor had taught him a long time ago. Of course, he didn't really like thinking about his familiar's namesake...
The point was, despite considering himself smart, Howl was finding he was having trouble focusing on what Trace was saying. Part of this had to do with her Australian dialect, which he was still getting used to, but he was quickly realizing that that wasn't the entire reason. When she handed him the shiv, he was barely paying enough attention to take it from her. However, she she took out the second one, his gold-flecked silver eyes traveled with it as she stowed it inside of her bra, and he had to admit that his eyes lingered there a little too long.
I said SNAP. OUT. OF. IT!
"Sorry," he murmured as Kutta's remark (this time accompanied by a sharp bark) made him hurriedly direct his gaze elsewhere.
Eyeing the weapon which Trace had handed him, Howl was finally able to appreciate the craftsmanship. He was plenty comfortable with a weapon in his hand, having used many such makeshift tools as well as his bare hands to defend himself in the past. This was clearly something that Trace would not be averted from, that much became clearer with each word that came from her mouth, and his face grew serious. Whatever they might, whether it be useful or not, this was going to be dangerous for both of them. He accepted that, and accepted his role as her partner.
"Alright," he said with resignation, "I trust you. What do we do next?" Trust...such a simple word, but not so simple a concept. Even so...he truly did trust her.
Edited By Britters on 10/14/2018 at 10:28 PM.
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Posted: 10/15/2018 at 1:00 AM
Post #204
It was true that Trace had a sort of charming attractiveness about her. When she lived in Australia, she was exotic because of her Indian roots and accent, and then the mixed accent she acquired. The way she would speak the Australian slang with hints of Indian pronunciations. Even when she lived in India, up until the age of six, the travelling show that her family ran was enough to set her apart from the crowd. She was aware of her attractiveness; it was something that she had used to her advantage more than once in her days as a hired assassin in Australia: she'd play a delicate frat girl needing a ride home, emphasizing the Indian hints in her accent, just to get into the car of the very person she was going to take the life of that night.
Oh yes, she noticed how Howl's eyes lingered on her chest area, but she only smirked. She was taken. She had never been a self-conscious person, and as if to tease him, she took a deep breath and sighed, pretending to be fiddling with putting her boots back on.
The stupid dog barked, then, and he snapped back to reality. Trace raised one eyebrow in amusement, but pushed Kutta farther away from her with her now-shoed foot. "Shut up, mutt. I oughta muzzle you," she muttered as she tied her boots.
She glanced back at Howl curiously, though, when he stated he trusted her. Why would he? "I ain't asking for trust," she told him. "That's a dangerous thing to give. Don't be that galah who gives it away like a root rat opens her legs." After all, she knew for a fact that she didn't trust him. Why would she?
Standing up, she reached down and dusted off her leggings. "It'll be in the main lab, I bet. The one we ain't allowed in. We gotta steal some coats."
Britters
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Posted: 10/15/2018 at 5:18 PM
Post #205
Thankfully, Howl seemed to finally be in control of himself. He felt like a teenager the way he had just been ogling Trace. He did notice she seemed to be aware of his stare, and he felt a little foolish. If it weren't for Kutta's nattering, he wasn't sure he could have continued stopping himself. He wasn't entirely sure what had come over him, as he wasn't usually the type to ogle that openly, but there seemed to be no time to really think about reasoning. It probably wasn't that important anyway...
Keep telling yourself that...
This time it was a lazy remark from Chap, who didn't usually speak much. Because of their exceptionally tight bond, Howl and his familiar were usually able to communicate extremely well without actual words. He glanced at the wold and scowled a bit, wondering what his furry friend meant but shrugging it off when Trace got irritable with Kutta. He knew better at this point than to try to say anything, but he hated seeing the two of them not having the same kind of relationship he had with Chap. Maybe one day he could convince Trace the bloodhound wasn't so bad.
"Fair enough," he said, feigning indifference with a shrug, getting at least the gist of what she had just said to him, "Guess we're missing lunch today, Chap." He stood up alongside trace, absently dusting his pants off, having never been all that concerned with his clothes being dirty or shabby.
It wasn't very surprising, Howl thought to himself, the fact that Trace didn't trust anyone easily or even at all. He had already deduced, through no great effort of perception on his part, that her life hadn't been all that great. She'd had to grow thick skin, become tough and dangerous simply to survive, and he respected and admire that about her. Adaptability was a trait few people possessed these days, and most of them didn't see the point in it until they were faced with some sort of tragic change to their lives. She didn't have to trust him, and he wouldn't bring up his trust again, but it didn't dissuade him. He trusted her regardless.
"I think we might have an easier time sneaking into that annex where the medical supplies come in," he told Trace, stowing the shiv surreptitiously into his pocket, "I think theres a supply closet in there, and locks won't be an issue." Lock picking was one of several useful skills he had picked up during his childhood.
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Posted: 10/17/2018 at 9:03 AM
Post #206
Trace had been through quite a lot in her life, and she found, throughout it, that her experiences made her. She wouldn't have done a lot of what she had if it weren't for her heart disease. Perhaps, if she had not been taken to Capsule when she was sixteen, she could have been a law enforcement officer. She could've made a living out of doing good, without having to worry about when her next heart attack would be, or raising ten million American dollars for a vague surgery that might work. Perhaps, she might have become a professional pianist. When she was seven, her father had started paying for piano lessons, and it was one thing she absolutely loved, but hardly got a chance to do now.
If anything, though, her experiences gave her knowledge. She doubted if ninety percent of the people here even knew where they were, what this place was called, and what it was part of. Granted, even Trace didn't know all the branches of Mantis, but she knew more than most people.
"There's more to here than ya know," she told Howl seriously. "More to all of it. We can go through that annex, steal some lab coats, and pretend to be transfers. There'll be heaps of guards, so don't ya dare bail on me. If you do," she sniffed as she straightened up and headed confidently in the direction of the main lab, "I'll kill ya."
She had no qualms about killing as another result of her past. She wished she could say she had had morals about all of it when she was, legally, a bounty hunter, and illegally, an assassin-for-hire. But when you're facing down death and all you've ever wanted was to live... Well. Trace was willing to do just about anything for twenty grand.
Britters
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Posted: 10/18/2018 at 9:52 PM
Post #207
The trials and tribulations which had made up nearly all of Howl's life were enough to make the average person weep. He was aware of this, but he had tried to never let it drag him down or make him feel like he was a lesser person. Living on the streets since he was around six years old, being forced to serve a street thug as part of his gang of child thieves, getting beaten and disciplined for trying to escape. He had scars like lattice across his back, badges of his survival. Life was not meant to be easy, and in many ways he was grateful for his hardships.
Because of his ability, Howl was aware of the fact that the compound was on an island, and he had some very limited information about the inner workings of some of the labs. Sometimes the animals he spoke didn't know exactly what they were seeing or telling him about, but he was able to translate their confused speech into something that he understood. It wasn't always easy, but it was plenty useful.
"Noted," he simply replied to Trace's comment about killing him if her ditched her, "Guards don't intimidate me." He followed her with his own relaxed confidence in his gait, looking for all the world as though nothing at all was happening.
Clearly, Trace didn't know him very well, but Howl wasn't about to make a comment about it. He would not abandon her, and not just because of the strange connection he felt to her. Once he gave someone his word to help them with something, he would never bail out. He had been taught that the golden rule was to take care of "you and yours", but the dramatic consequences of that rule had smacked him in the face quite hard years ago. He would always look out for and be loyal to those that meant something to him, or those he'd pledged his service to, and right now that meant Trace.
"Hang on," he said once they'd reached the annex door, which was unsurprisingly locked, "Cover me." He knelt down by the door knob, pulling a paper clip and a hairpin he'd managed to collect since he'd been here. He slid both of them into the key slot on the knob and began to carefully wiggle then around with practiced, dextrous fingers. It was less than a minute before there was a satisfying click that signaled the lock opening.
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Posted: 10/19/2018 at 12:21 AM
Post #208
If Trace were asked to describe her life as of yet, the fully twenty-five years she had lived, she would call it a fight. When she was a little kid, her family had run a traveling show in India, but they were by no means wealthy. They would have to showcase their oddness in exchange for dinner, but that was an easy fight. When the caravan was set fire to, it was a fight to escape with her life. She remembered running back in to her burning home to save her baby brother. That was a fight. Growing up in Australia, learning a new language, up through everything that happened at Mantis, was all fighting.
When you spend twenty-five years of your life doing nothing but pure fighting, you get pretty good at it. Trace would be completely ready and willing to take on every guard in this complex in melee fighting if it would get her anywhere.
In all honesty, she was a little surprised when Howl knelt down and expertly began to pick the lock. She didn't take him as someone who would be super experienced, at least at first. When she thought about it, though, it kind of made sense. He was rough in his mannerisms, and he had probably more skeletons in his closet than she knew. Who was she to judge?
Who was she to care?
But she covered him as he got the door open, and then she slipped inside, making sure to close the door tightly after he came in, as well. They were in a storage room with boxes piled high, all labeled with a different drug. "Coats should be in one of those closets," she told Howl, gesturing for him to go seeking them out.
She needed him out of the way for a minute here. Once he had gone in search of the disguises, Trace began to hurriedly check the labels on the boxes, and what they were for. If there was a chance of a cure... She'd take it.
Britters
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Posted: 10/19/2018 at 2:19 AM
Post #209
During his thievery days, Howl had learned many different skills. The gang's leader hadn't care for any of the children he had "taken in", but he was careful to teach them things they needed to know to not be caught. In other words, he was merely protecting his assets. When the guy had left Howl for dead, it was probably the best thing he'd ever done for one of his wards. Howl had recovered with the help of his good friend and mentor, Chap, and he had been able to survive on his own because of what he had learned.
Life is always going to be a struggle, its your job to give yourself as many advantages as possible. Chap's second golden rule.
"Right," he said softly, nodding at Trace as he wandered off to find the closet, "Coats..." He wandered away from Trace just a little bit, searching for the closets.
There was no need for Howl to understand what Trace's plan was. As he had said before, he trusted her complete. He could hear her moving around back back to entrance, but while he briefly wondered what she was doing, he didn't think it important enough to pursue. If he needed to know about it, she would tell him, otherwise he just needed to focus on his task. The closets were easy to locate, and the doors were not locked. He grabbed two white lab coats, a large one for him and a smaller on for Trace, and then carefully shut the closet to make it look like it hadn't been disturbed.
"Got them," he called out, his voice pitched low enough so that she could only just hear him, "We should get in there while there's still some confusion with the shift change." The compound personnel ran on twelve hour rotations, which had to be absolute hell on the doctors and scientists, but he felt no sympathy for them.
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Posted: 10/19/2018 at 5:25 PM
Post #210
Quickly, Trace scanned the labels on the boxes, knowing that she only had a little bit of time before Howl would return with the disguises. She found all sorts of drugs, but was looking more at the uses labeled rather than the long names. There was hardly anything that she wouldn't do to stay alive - that much was prevalent within her past, within how she had committed such sins for the sake of money, because money equated life for her. How she had broken the most important principle of her religion.
"Damn it," she muttered as her searching turned up nothing bearing the use of 'cure for heart disease from Manibus' or anything similar. They needed to find this weapon. That's what it, was right? A weapon? Or a key, she mused. Whatever the scientists were hiding from her, she was going to get her hands on it.
Sure enough, Howl returned with the coats. Trace took hers wordlessly and slipped into it. "If I start a conversation with someone, play along," she instructed him.
It felt odd, being in this costume that she hated so much on every person she had seen in it up until now. Even Dr. J, who she knew one of the prisoners here was close with, was nothing more than an enemy to Trace. She swallowed hard, solidifying her story in her mind, set her shoulders back confidently, and headed through the door into one of the lab corridors.
She walked with a purpose, not even checking to see if Howl was following. "You know, Roskoff, I'm thinking I like this place. It's an improvement from where we came from," she told Howl casually in a perfect American accent. "Excuse me," she intercepted a young woman who was about to go into what was labeled as the lunch room. "We're new transfers. Do you happen to know where the medical supplies are kept?"
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