And the Omega

Alliance

omegalazzaro:

“I-I-It-taly…R-r-ro-ome…” He sniffled again. He was having small moments of clarity, of his head not buzzing with the static of a thousand thoughts at once. Maybe it was the shielding between floors, maybe it was the spot they were in. Whatever it was he could think, he could remember.

"I-I c-came he-here for…a new-new arm. Th-They were do-ing…tri-tri-al runs for-for a new…new…“ He shook his head, face pinching as he tried to remember the word but gave up, “D-Didnt work…visa-visa out. No-no money. Li-li-living on the-the streets. Murk-off…pr-promised a-a-a job…I-I got…got pre-pregn-nant…h-had a-a ba-baby. It-it hurt s-s-so much…a-a lot-lot of-of blood. I-I alm-most died-died.”. He told Dutch all of it in his slow, stuttering tone. The examinations, the experiments, the torture. How they’d lock him in ice baths overnight, how they kept food from him, how they’d drag him from his cell and beat him merciless. At one point they’d kept him in a bath for a whole day before tossing him outside in the snow, naked, chained to the basketball hoop.

Then there was a look of slow, dawning realization, “I-I was…e-easy to…to take. Homeless i-in Ro-Rome…ho-homeless a-and expired he-here…e-easy b-bec-cause no-no-b-body c-cared ab-bout m-me…”

Dutch’s eyes darken then, something murderous lingering behind them. If he could make Wernicke pay for all he’d done, he would, but as it stands, they’re just two tortured souls, hiding in a hole from the psychopaths made by Murkoff themselves.

Worst of all, he’d been a part of that machine once. Once, a security officer for Murkoff, now little more than a failed experiment–he’d known the going ons, at least to some degree, though the depravity of it all had escaped him when he’d been up on the hill.

Now, he can atone for it.

“We’ll get out of here.” Dutch says, squeezing Laz’s hand. “And if we do it right, we won’t even hafta fight–but we’ll hafta run. You think you can do that, Laz? Think you can run?”

#trashldaddy #abuse tw #outlast au

Lazzaro looked down at his legs, he was withered, exhausted, he had a week left at most, maybe days. His face was sunken in, hiding what was once an almost beautiful classical Roman face. He was simply a shell of what he once was.

Weakly he squeezed Dutch’s hand back and nodded, if anything he just wanted to feel the sun on his face once last time.

“I-I ma-made path-ths up he-here...it...it goes...goes all ov-ver.” He didn’t want to let go of Dutch’s hand, afraid the man might disappear.

“I-If we...we c-can g-get to th-the morg-gue...we-we can...can esc-cape thr-through th-the b-body ch-chute...? I-I think...I th-think there’s a-a tun-tunnel...”

Alliance

omegalazzaro:

Lazzaro was so thin, all bones, he didn’t even have enough fat to pad between the bones his malformed arm and his flesh, the bone was simply rubbing through it, leaving open sores with white bone spotting them. His eyes were dull, his stomach past the stage of bloating. It’d be a miracle if he lived the week.

Slowly he took Dutch’s hand in his own, squeezing as tightly as he could as he studied the man, his grip weak like the rest of him, “I-I wa-wanna g-g-go ho-ome…” he sniffled.

He clutches Lazzaro’s hand loosely, just enough that he feels his presence there beside him, knows he’s here to help. It wouldn’t do to hurt the poor boy, he’s already so malnourished and in need of a doctor. A real doctor.

“Where is home, Laz?” He asks, looking the younger man over with worry in his eyes. “Is it in the city?”

It’s hard to say. Mount Massive seems to have collected people from all over the area. He could have lived in the next city over, or even the next state, depending on how far Murkoff’s reach is.

#tw: miscarriage #tw: abuse #tw: pregnancy #so many I hope I got them all #Outlast au

"I-I-It-taly...R-r-ro-ome..." He sniffled again. He was having small moments of clarity, of his head not buzzing with the static of a thousand thoughts at once. Maybe it was the shielding between floors, maybe it was the spot they were in. Whatever it was he could think, he could remember.

"I-I c-came he-here for...a new-new arm. Th-They were do-ing...tri-tri-al runs for-for a new...new..." He shook his head, face pinching as he tried to remember the word but gave up, "D-Didnt work...visa-visa out. No-no money. Li-li-living on the-the streets. Murk-off...pr-promised a-a-a job...I-I got...got pre-pregn-nant...h-had a-a ba-baby. It-it hurt s-s-so much...a-a lot-lot of-of blood. I-I alm-most died-died.". He told Dutch all of it in his slow, stuttering tone. The examinations, the experiments, the torture. How they'd lock him in ice baths overnight, how they kept food from him, how they'd drag him from his cell and beat him merciless. At one point they'd kept him in a bath for a whole day before tossing him outside in the snow, naked, chained to the basketball hoop.

Then there was a look of slow, dawning realization, "I-I was...e-easy to...to take. Homeless i-in Ro-Rome...ho-homeless a-and expired he-here...e-easy b-bec-cause no-no-b-body c-cared ab-bout m-me..."

Alliance

omegalazzaro:

“Yes-yes…I…m-my na-name is-is Laz…” He nodded tentatively, “You-You…not…not a pa-pati-tient. You-You go-gott-tta be a-a doc-t-or. He-help…me…” He rubbed his hand over his head, fingers carding through his short hair, “Im-im stuck-stuck he-here…” He meant both in the hospital and his head. Lazzaro’s voice was soft, quiet, so the others couldn’t hear him. His eyes were wide, tears streaming down his cheeks, “D-Dont li-li-live he-here…” He sniffled, his nose bleeding as he wiped one of his sheets against his face.

“I’m not a doctor, Laz.” Dutch says, feeling an ache in his heart as he watches the young man struggle. “I’m trapped here too.”

Scooting a little closer, he offers out a hand for the other to hold or do with as he pleases. It’s a struggle then. Should he tell him the truth, or should he keep his secrets? Watching the other cry and whimper is enough to make the decision pretty quickly.

“I used to be security here, then Doctor Wernicke kidnapped me and brought me into his operation. I … see things, now, thanks to his drugs. Listen, I want to get out too, maybe we can get out together?”

#damndirtyrat #outlast au

Slowly he took Dutch’s hand in his own, squeezing as tightly as he could as he studied the man, his grip weak like the rest of him, “I-I wa-wanna g-g-go ho-ome...” he sniffled.

Alliance

omegalazzaro:

“M-Move, move, move, y-ye-es…ye-es.” Lazzaro nodded, tucking the baby doll gently into a papoose sling he’d made from a bed sheet. This man had brought him his baby, his child back to him but could he trust him further? Everybody was so dangerous here, he wasn’t certain but-but anybody who brought him back his baby and hadn’t struck him or pulled him or-…worse, was probably not so bad. The new man reminded him of the good doctor, his favourite person whom he no longer saw.

“I-I wi-will sh-show y-you the sa-afe place-my-my safe place…n-nob-b-body know-knows abou-out it.” he spoke so quietly as he shuffled out from under the gurney, eyes still red and cheeks stained with tears. He sniffled a few times before reaching for Dutch’s hand with his own to pull him along.

Lazzaro’s bare footfalls were near silent as he pulled the man along the narrow corridors of the hospital, leading him to a utility closet in some barely used hallway. They had to scramble over some debris to reach it to begin with. Opening the door, Lazzaro climbed onto the sturdy shelves, finding just the right places to put his feet as not to disturb the items on the shelves just in case somebody came across them. A ceiling tile was slid out of the way and the one armed man pulled himself up.

Lazzaro had more or less made a nest in the spacious well…space between the floors. He was able to sit up straight without any trouble. Mounds of insulation had been moved off to the sides and covered in layers of scavenged sheets, the only light provided though was from a single flashlight.

“Th-This is-is my so-soft pla-ace…”

After hauling himself into the space, and replacing the tile, Dutch sits with Lazzaro, his back hunched slightly to accommodate the space, which for Laz is a perfect fit, but the man is considerably taller than his counterpart. He looks around the space–it’s as safe as anything else, especially his own space behind the boiler. Free from suspicion, and hopefully, the influence of the Walrider.

Dutch offers him a smile in the dim light, “Nice place ya go here … uh, I just realized I never got your name. I’ve heard other people call ya Laz, is that your name?”

He can hear the twins banging around down in the floors below. They’re likely looking for him, but they’re much too big to fit in the spaces they’d crawl through, and thus, will not likely think to look.

#damndirtyrat #Outlast au

"Yes-yes...I...m-my na-name is-is Laz..." He nodded tentatively, "You-You...not...not a pa-pati-tient. You-You go-gott-tta be a-a doc-t-or. He-help...me..." He rubbed his hand over his head, fingers carding through his short hair, "Im-im stuck-stuck he-here..." He meant both in the hospital and his head. Lazzaro's voice was soft, quiet, so the others couldn't hear him. His eyes were wide, tears streaming down his cheeks, "D-Dont li-li-live he-here..." He sniffled, his nose bleeding as he wiped one of his sheets against his face.

wehrmxcht-deactivated20171018

I’m going to put this in my rules but

I’M NOT AN EXPECTANT RP’ER

If I like your starter call, send you a meme, or reply to a thread, and you don’t respond to it, I honestly don’t mind. I never expect anything from anyone, and I’m never demanding with RP’ing. It dosn’t matter if we talk every day, are really good friends, or if we talk occasionally/not at all, I never expect anything from anyone ! This is your hobby, your escape, and your relaxation, don’t stress yourself thinking “ Oh god I haven’t replied/haven’t made a starter/haven’t posted her meme, she must think I’m ignoring her ” I’m not thinking that at all !! Seriously !!

Friend, acquaintance, or mutual, don’t pressure yourself thinking I’ll be bitching about it, I won’t. I don’t mind, and it’s not hurt my feelings. You do you ♥

desnos

Out//last AU notes: Lazzaro's babydoll is linked to his exposure to the morphogenic engine. Lazzaro, who is inter//sex, experienced a near fatal, half term miscarriage that was written off as a psychosomatic pregnancy as he believed he was still pregnant after the event. He believes the babydoll is actually the actual child he once carried and he cares for it all the same. Unlike the other patients though he is not a variant, his missing arm and deformity were birth defects that affected him long before he was shipped off to massive. Lazzaro was originally in the US seeking treatment for his arm and taking part in experiments for an advanced prosthetic. His visas were up and he was left homeless before he was picked up for another experiment. With no family and no more official paperwork he was the perfect candidate for Murkoff's shady dealings. If removed from Mt.Massive and put on adjusted medications Lazzaro is actually quite ordinary.

#tw: miscarriage #tw: abuse #tw: pregnancy #so many I hope I got them all #Outlast au

wordsnquotes

Can you see me? All of me? Probably not. No one ever really has.

Jeffrey Eugenides, Middlesex (via wordsnquotes)

Alliance

omegalazzaro:

Lazzaro’s babydoll was a constant source of torment, the others always trying to take it away and threatening him with it. He was small, not more than a skeleton with skin stretched over his deformed bones. He had been crying for hours, fearing the worst for his doll, but he couldn’t fight back, he couldn’t just take it back. The only thing he was good at was barely staying alive. He knew all the nooks and crannies, all the safe spaces he could slip into to sleep or hide. He knew how to get back and forth to the kitchen without much torment. When the stranger slipped the doll to him he clutched it desperately to his chest, fixing the bit of old sheet he had it swaddled in, his hand bleeding from his chewing on it to try to soothe himself. “Th-th-thabk y-y-you…” He stammered out, sniffling as he tried to soothe his baby who didn’t cry. His pupils were dilated from a mix of medications and the low light of the hospital, they sat round and large in sunken in sockets as he looked at the stranger, trying to gauge him, “N-N-Never see-seen you be-bef-fore? A-Are you-you the-the new-new doc-doct-tor?”

His mouth draws into a thin line. “M’name’s Dutch. I ain’t a doctor, but I am new around here and …” well, it’s too long and winding a story to really tell the poor guy, as shaken up and tearful as he is. “Anyways. I saw those idiots take your baby, and thought I’d return it. It ain’t safe here, though. I saw ‘em skulkin’ around here not too long ago.”

He turns to glance away, eyes fixed on the dark corridor nearby, where he’s certain he’d just heard shuffling footfalls, but he can’t be certain. They’re out in the open, really, and at any moment, the Twins could return with worse intentions than doll theft.

“Can ya stand up? We oughtta move.”

#damndirtyrat #outlast au

“M-Move, move, move, y-ye-es...ye-es.” Lazzaro nodded, tucking the baby doll gently into a papoose sling he’d made from a bed sheet. This man had brought him his baby, his child back to him but could he trust him further? Everybody was so dangerous here, he wasn’t certain but-but anybody who brought him back his baby and hadn’t struck him or pulled him or-...worse, was probably not so bad. The new man reminded him of the good doctor, his favourite person whom he no longer saw.

“I-I wi-will sh-show y-you the sa-afe place-my-my safe place...n-nob-b-body know-knows abou-out it.” he spoke so quietly as he shuffled out from under the gurney, eyes still red and cheeks stained with tears. He sniffled a few times before reaching for Dutch’s hand with his own to pull him along.

Lazzaro had more or less made a nest in the spacious well...space between the floors. He was able to sit up straight without any trouble. Mounds of insulation had been moved off to the sides and covered in layers of scavenged sheets, the only light provided though was from a single flashlight.

“Th-This is-is my so-soft pla-ace...”

Alliance

@omegalazzaro

The doll baby, he’d found abandoned on the second floor in a pile of rubble, where one of the Twins had left it. Earlier, he’d heard some kind of commotion between them and the doll’s owner, doubtlessly teasing him again. This time, at least, they’d left him alone in lieu of his ‘baby’, but Arik still feels a strong desire to return it to its owner, so he tucks it into his jacket and slips down the hall, keeping to the shadows as to avoid detection by Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum.

It isn’t terribly difficult to find Laz, he’s been sobbing for a while now, so he simply follows the sound of his crying, until he finds the young man huddled up on the floor, beneath a gurney, hugging himself.

Of course, he checks the area to make sure neither of Father Martin’s thugs are present, before he slips over, kneeling next to the bed, with the dollbaby in hand.

“Hey, hey, c’mon. Stop cryin’. They’ll get ya sure if ya don’t stop cryin’.” He slips the doll through the bars of the gurney, and into Laz’s grasp.

#damndirtyrat #Outlast au

Lazzaro's babydoll was a constant source of torment, the others always trying to take it away and threatening him with it. He was small, not more than a skeleton with skin stretched over his deformed bones. He had been crying for hours, fearing the worst for his doll, but he couldn't fight back, he couldn't just take it back. The only thing he was good at was barely staying alive. He knew all the nooks and crannies, all the safe spaces he could slip into to sleep or hide. He knew how to get back and forth to the kitchen without much torment. When the stranger slipped the doll to him he clutched it desperately to his chest, fixing the bit of old sheet he had it swaddled in, his hand bleeding from his chewing on it to try to soothe himself. "Th-th-thabk y-y-you..." He stammered out, sniffling as he tried to soothe his baby who didn't cry. His pupils were dilated from a mix of medications and the low light of the hospital, they sat round and large in sunken in sockets as he looked at the stranger, trying to gauge him, "N-N-Never see-seen you be-bef-fore? A-Are you-you the-the new-new doc-doct-tor?"

unbreakingblossom-blog

Kali grew even angrier, and she felt it harder and harder to control her temper. Another elf, someone who should know better than… But no, she had obviously embraced a different culture, a different way. And so Kali would treat her no different. A small crowd had gathered around them, many of them already forming their own versions of how this would play out.

“You’ve obviously done a wonderful job.” Her tone dripped venom. Her eyes cut to Lazzaro and her heart weeped for him. There was no reason anyone- man, elf, qunari, or dwarf- should be leashed like some animal. “He isn’t some mabari hound you can parade around like a Ferelden dog lord.” Those words would sting any Orlesian.

The woman stilled and answered, her tone that measured calm and flat that years of living in court could produce. "You don't know the situation. How we found him howling and barking in the woods, wearing naught but an old pelt. We tried to teach him the proper way but he will not learn. He's a feral beast." She leaned in close to the other woman, "And tell me, as another of the people, what shame is it in leashing a shem? They steal us and our children, it's long overdue we start treating them like the beasts they are."

Kali took in the damage all over his body. She gently put her hand on his head and gave him a sad smile that said “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you.” She stood suddenly and turned to face Jacqueline, her entire form radiating the authority of her position.

“You, shemlen woman.” Kali was a full head taller than the Orlesian and she was using this to her advantage as she stared down her nose at her. “What have you done to him?”

#Dragon age au #abuse tw #mobile reply

Jacqueline didn't shrink away from the inquisitor, her hand remained firm on Lazzaro's leash, pulling him to lean against her legs. He kept his head down, hand still in his mouth as he sat quietly. Close up, she could see Jacqueline's ears. Clearly they'd been altered, she was talking to another elvhen woman. "What have I done to him? My dear! I've brought him into my home, fed and bathed him after my husband and his hunting party found him feral in the woods!" She chuckled, "But there's only so much you can do for a feral creature and I've simply done my best."

Kali’s nostrils flared when she saw Jacqueline yank on the leash that was attached to Lazzaro. Her eyes filled with rage and for a moment, she thought she might kill the woman. She still had the knife clutched in her fist and while she was certainly no rogue, she could still do some damage with the blade. Instead though, she calmed herself.

“Hmph.” She turned her gaze to Lazzaro and crouched down in front of him, ignoring the gaudy woman with all her might. “Are you hurt?” She asked quietly. She wasnt even sure she could be understood by him.

#Mobile reply #abuse tw #dragon age au

Lazzaro looked at her for a mere second before he nervously adverted his gaze. His shoulder hunched as he tried to hide and make himself as small as possible. He was skeleton thin, his body bruised, especially around his neck. His hand followed suit from him biting it. The only injury not inflicted on him were the patches of flesh on his deformed shoulder where the bone had worn through underneath. He was not in good shape.

Kali’s eyes followed down from his, to his neck, and then up the leash to where he was tethered just outside the shop. Something burned in her chest and she drew one of the knives she had bought for Cole. Surely he would understand if she dulled the blade on a bit of old leather. With one fell swoop, the leather was severed and Kali motioned for him to run. “Go.” She whispered harshly. She looked around at the Orlesians eyeing. Even with her disguise, they had found her out as the Inquisitor. “Shit…”

#Mobile reply #dragon age au

Inquisitor! Inquisitor! He couldn't understand the word as people began to flock. Jacqueline emerged from the store, excited to see the inquisitor. "Oh! Lady Inquis-" she stopped when she noticed Lazzaro's leash had been severed. Quickly she reached for the end still attached to his collar and gave it a harsh tug. He only whined and stumbled towards her as she tried to regain her composure, "Oh my lady inquisitor! What a privilege to have you in Val Royeaux!" She chirped.

The Inquisitor hated Orlais as much as the next elf, but this city really took the cake. Everyone was so fake in Val Royeux, with their masks and accents and stupid clothes. She exited a shop, her hands turning over a new set of daggers she had purchased for Cole- his had warped from extended use- and her gaze caught something. She looked up, almost not noticing the man pressed against the wall. She slipped the daggers into her bag and approached slowly.

“Hello?”