ArchivedLogs:Delivery Boys

Delivery Boys
Dramatis Personae Dusk, Eric, Ion
In Absentia	2014-11-05 '
Location Jail, somewhere
Cramped and small, this thick-walled concrete room offers very little by way of comfort or privacy. There's a cot on one side with thin grey mattress, thin grey blankets, thin grey pillow. On the other side sits a lidless steel toilet with built-in sink atop it. There's not a whole lot by way of /room/, about six feet by eight feet. No windows to the outside, and a solid heavy steel door rather than bars; a barred window in the door is usually kept shuttered from without, as is the slot in the wall where a shelf protrudes and meals are often slid through. A single wan light in the ceiling provides dim illumination whenever the guards care to turn it on. Nighttime down here in solitary is very, very dark -- either by design or by choice, who knows. It's possible /other/ people have lights in their cells but Dusk's is off, leaving the room nearly pitch dark except for the faintest sliver of glow from the edges of the slot in the door that suggests out in the /hall/ a light is on. But here, dark. Which doesn't likely bother Dusk at all, by virtue both of highly night-adapted eyes and by virtue of the fact he seems to be asleep. He is lying somewhat awkwardly on the cot, a minimalistic affair that likely wouldn't be /overly/ comfortable for most average-sized men, let alone one with seventeen-foot wings attached. A scratchy wool blanket is pulled up mostly over him, though even through it it's easy to see how badly he's shivering. It's not easy to see much /else/ of him, just an odd misshapen lump of blanketperson curled into a ball on the cot with one wing draped out from under the blanket and trailing on the floor. The other, tucked under blanket, is wrapped over himself like a second layer of covering. With all this dark it'd be that much easier to see Ion's imminent arrival, a flickerspark up by the ceiling where the light fixture is. For a short moment the lightbulb flares on, bright -- only for a second. It's followed by a /thud/, and a soft oof in the darkness. "Shit, yo, this better be the right one or some poor motherfucker's gonna --" Ion's voice is hushed but even so the amusement in it can be heard. A blue-white crackle of sparks appears, dancing between his fingertips to provide wan illumination into the room. He nods, satisfied, at the silhouette in the bed. "Bigass fucking wing, think we find our boy, dog." "/Fuck/, that hurts like a motherfucker," Eric growls as he reappears on the floor - on all fours, mind you. "Chupame la verga, Ion, can't you make that feel less like you're lightin' me on fuckin' fire? I mean damn, felt like you put me in fuckin' ol' sparky." Eric's voice is pained, glaring up at the other man despite the smile on his face. Blinking several times, Eric straightens up and looks towards the bundle of wings on the little cot. "Hey, Dusk. It ain't exactly visitin' hours, but we thought you ain't mind the company down here'n solitary." In the bed Dusk shifts -- but only to pull himself tighter into a ball at the thuds, the sounds of other people in the room. A low whimper grates in his throat, his wings tightening further beneath the blanket. It takes a moment for him to stir enough to look /out/ into the room -- growling harsh at the bright sparks coming from Ion. The head that pokes out from under his blanket is -- ghost-pale, incredibly gaunt, cheekbones hollow and his lips dry and chapped. His eyes shine in the dim light, a moment before his teeth bare. He pushes himself out of the cot -- it's probably supposed to be a /lunge/, a grasping-snapping motion that comes with a sharp snarl and a hungry /reach/ of hands -- but it falls short of that. Instead he just kind of /topples/, collapsing into a very ungainly heap by his cot and scraping talons against the floor to /keep/ trying to propel himself towards the other men. Ion's teeth flash in a wide grin. "I too much for you to handle, ese? Such reputation you have, is all clearly a bull-shit. Two fucking seconds and you spent. -- {Hey, gorgeous, we brought delivery.}" Ion doesn't seem overly /surprised/ at Dusk's cheerful welcome, though he does graciously -- step back away from the feral vampire. And shove Eric closer. Here, food. "My reputation is well earned; not my fault you don't know how to handle quality, Ion." Eric's smile fades as Dusk's face comes into view - and when the prisoner falls over onto the floor, he crawls quickly on his hands and knees over to Dusk. "Easy there, Dusk. Come on, now, drink up." Strong arms circle around Dusk as Eric shifts to a seated position, pushing his neck up against Dusk's face and rubbing his cheek soothingly over the side of Dusk's face. Dusk's growling continues, rumbling deep in his throat as his wings fumble to curl tight around Eric. Not so much affectionate as /gripping/; it's possible he isn't really parsing Eric's words so much. There's not much /foreplay/ before his teeth sink down, hard and /deep/ in a bite that comes with an ugly tearing of flesh and muscle to get at the artery running through Eric's throat, rather than the vein he goes for when -- being /conscientious/ about not killing his friends. The growling subsides to a whimper again as hot blood fills his mouth, his body shuddering where he leans up against Eric. Ion winces, leaning back against a wall and watching this with a frown. "You just getting beat on all over today, huh, yuta." He doesn't try to come in between Dusk and his feeding, though the hunger with which Dusk attacks puts a pained look in his eyes. Eric lets out a long hiss, and his arms tighten reflexively around Dusk. The fangs working their way deeper into his neck cause the hiss to turn into a pained groan as his blood swells up around the teeth in copious pulses with the beat of his heart. "Fuuuck," he drags out, his own teeth clenching in a pained expression. Despite it, though, he makes no move to pull away from Dusk. "You-- ain't-- lyin-- Ion." he gasps out, through gritted teeth. Dusk still isn't really listening to /words/ being spoken around him. Just digging teeth in -- probably multiple times, given Eric's rate of healing; any /mitigation/ of the bloodflow earns a frustrated growl and another press of fangs. It is a good while -- /well/ more than long enough to kill any normal person, probably a few times over -- before he finally breaks off, /jerking/ back with a scrabble of wings against floor, a wide-eyed look of horror. "I -- you -- oh. Fuck. /Eric/? Io -- oh. Ohgod." There's blood streaked down his scruffy-bearded chin, his breathing a little too fast and a little too ragged. "Ay. {The things we do for a brother, huh?} You gonna stay with us, now? {Tomorrow I think, we'd have only found a skeleton in here. You look half of one already.}" Only once Dusk breaks away does Ion push away from the wall, tucking his thumbs into his pockets and moving closer to crouch down nearby where Dusk left Eric. "{Thought maybe you could use a little pick-me-up.}" Despite not being dead, it is a testament to just how much Dusk drank that Eric has the goddamned decency to look a bit woozy as Dusk scrabbles away from him. "Hey there. Ain't think you were really seein' us until now, yeah?" His smile is easy - a little too easy, perhaps - and he shifts his weight to recline against the cot, one hand coming out and resting reassuringly on Dusk's leg. "You ain't do me no harm, Dusk. Breathe easy." "No -- I wasn't -- I couldn't -- oh, thank /god/." Probably this is the moment that it actually sinks /in/ that it's /Eric/ here. Dusk's wing curls inward, rubbing against his face as he slumps back against the wall by the foot of the cot. "I was just --" His fist circles against his heart silently. "{Starving to fucking death? It's not /you/ who needs to apologize for /that/ shit, dude.}" Ion's head shakes, disgusted. "{I'd burn this whole fucking jail /down/ if -- not for, you know, all the other motherfuckers locked in cages here too. These assholes were just going to let you die, took us a bit to /find/ you but we sure as fuck weren't going to let /that/ happen.}" Eric's hand grasps down into Dusk's leg, squeezing once in a supportive gesture. It isn't that strong of a squeeze. "I'm with vato here. This ain't on ya, and there's no harm done. Just a cheap way to get me a little tipsy, and I'll be right as rain if'ya give me a couple minutes." He gently bumps his shoulder against Dusk's. "But this ain't gonna fly. Ion's right; between us three, this shit can't stand." Dusk slowly curls his wings around himself, wrapping them in tight as he balls up against the wall. Between the dark and the cold stone-like floor and the wing-cocoon he almost /could/ be a bat, once his head tucks down beneath the shelter of his wings. "Verdict's passed. Not really much else to --" He trails off, expression hidden beneath the folds of his wings. "Sentencing's next week." "Ayuh, and I promised this motherfucker this weren't no rescue mission and we wasn't here to bust you out," Ion says, thwapping the back of his hand against Eric's shoulder, "{... not till /after/ the sentencing, anyway.}" The grin that Eric shoots Ion is a bright, mean looking flash of teeth. "What do you want from me, huh? Ain't like I'm gonna tell some goody two-shoes like Jax my extracurriculars. God only knows why I trust you idiots with 'em." He tilts his head back and forth for a moment, hand rising to run gently over Dusk's wings, a soothing, gentle circle, and he falls silent for several minutes. "Don't get too comfortable here, Dusk. I doubt you'll be stayin' too long, one way or 'nother." "Hhh." Maybe the hiss Dusk breathes out is a laugh. It's hard to tell; he sounds tired, still, pained, still, worried, still. "Good. Don't do so well in cages." "Kssh." /Ion's/ hiss is sharper -- though /definitely/ a laugh, even as he whaps Eric in the shoulder again. "Don't you go dissin' on my boy, dog, that Firefly put his ass on the goddamn /line/ saving all-us so-many-time. He been right here in jail, too, for that. /Terrorist/ they sayed. Still say. He a -- /good/. Not a good--y." His shoulders roll and he bounces to his feet, restlessly pacing the small cell. "Naw, man, you, this not for you. We get your sky back, somehow we will." "Maybe, but you ain't got my dayjob. And listen to the man, Dusk - Sparky don't know shit, but even a broken clock's right twice a day." Eric counters, winking at Ion and wrapping his arm fully around Dusk's wing-enclosed body. "One way or another, we'll get ya out. And we'll make sure that /this/ doesn't happen again, even if you have to put up with this asshole comin' to visit you on the regular." His arm tightens around Dusk, firmer now even than he was a minute before, fingertips running up and down the soft skin of a wing. "Trust us, hermano." Dusk shivers, a small ripple of motion before his wing presses outward into the touch. His head lifts from its cocoon, cheek pressing against Eric's arm. "I -- am so. More than okay. With regular -- I've missed -- I. Thank you. I've needed --" "Broken clock, fuck you man I leave you in this cell for that." And, true to his word, Ion vanishes in another brief pop of light -- though a second later he reappears with another /thud/. He'll /probably/ be wearing some bruises tomorrow. "-- Right, I mean to say, he been lonely. I leave you two alone -- what, ten minutes? Then I come back, yeah?" And with that he vanishes again. Eric laughs, shaking his head. "Ten? Make it thirty, at least, amigo!" Shaking his head he turns to bury his face against Dusk's hair, hand coming up to stroke the side of his cheek. "I missed ya too, Dusk. And I ain't goin' nowhere for a while, huh? Even if it means puttin' up with sparky comin' in to see us, I'm takin' my damn time." His fingers run gently along Dusk's jawline. "You looked like crap when we got here, Dusk. Ain't want to see you like that again. I'm here for ya."