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[Guiltrot]
‘ PATCH. ‘ - [Vander] starts to heal / bandage [Powder]
🐒💥☁️ ‒‒‒‒ / @guiltrot
❝ 𝙄𝙏 𝘿𝙊𝙀𝙎𝙉❜𝙏 𝙃𝙐𝙍𝙏 𝙏𝙃𝘼𝙏 𝘽𝘼𝘿 -- 𝙄 𝙋𝙍𝙊𝙈𝙄𝙎𝙀 ❞ Powder tries to convince the man that the wound on her leg was not all that bad, despite the bruising and blood that flowed ( ignoring the fact that she had been crying seconds ago and they threatened to spill over again ). Eyes watch as he uses his hands to begin to clean so that it could be wrapped up, flinching slightly at the touch.
@guiltrot asked; “Are you chasing something, or running away?”
He startles her, she turns and nearly shoots before it registers who it is. she lowers her gun, exhaling, her nerves are on fire. She thought’s she’d seen vi again. That blue haired enforcer with her. She’d given chase but she’s not even convinced it was real now.
“Did you see... a girl with pink hair run through here?”
Continued @guiltrot
It’s all the same. Without someone to protect her, Powder is alone. She has no one, as trapped in dreamland as she feels in the real world sometimes. She reaches out as a burning world envelops her, begging for someone to save her.
Someone... Anyone!
Where is Vi? She hasn’t come. Powder’s crying for her, but she isn’t here. Not in this wasteland. It’s an abysmal emptiness, a world that wasn’t created with her in mind. She trembles like a leaf every time she’s back here. Why did she have to come back?
She’s grabbed and every instinct kicks in, screaming just like she had been. Even with a tearstained face she flails, yelling for Vi in her desperate attempt to make them let go.
Despite fighting so hard, she gives up as soon as she sees it’s Vander. With a whimper, Powder throws her arms around her dad. Her face buries itself into his chest, her tiny body continuing to shake as it had done throughout the nightmare.
It takes her a moment, but she looks back up when she’s ready to speak. ❝ I was... so scared that... that nobody would be there to save me... ❞
@guiltrot
"Jesus christ Sil-- you. You can't. I almost--" Vander throws down the pipe he keeps under the bar, and rubs his face on the back of his sleeves, and takes a deep sniff. Eyes red, jaw tense. Trying to hide the flush on his cheeks, the dark of his eyes. "What-- that door was locked. Whats going on- is everything okay?"
Silco had never seen Vander like this, practically deflated against the bar top as though the world fell too heavily on his shoulders. Though the larger man easily brushed aside the tears, Silco could still hear the waver in Vander's voice--that parchment of the throat that occurred when one had shed far too many tears far too quickly. The younger of the two moved to pull up a chair, sliding in on it so as he could stay closer to his partner.
"Everything is fine, Van, though you look as though you've seen better." Silco managed to stay, not outright asking what was wrong but implying that Vander could share. The two of them shared everything, after all--it should be a given that words could be exchanged just as easily. "You often sit here alone after shutting down?"
[ Cont from here | @guiltrot ]
She stares at him, it was something in his voice. Something in his eyes. She recognised him, she knew that voice.
She steps back, hands clutching at her head as a wave of noise and images washes over her. A blue flash, Vander’s corpse so much bigger then it should be, shimmer pink veins. The thing in Singed’s lab that she saw once in passing before the scientist had shooed her out...
She lets out a pained sob. Her head hurts so much. Vander stares down at her, anger in his voice but she cant make out words its just noise and the image of his body. vi screaming at her, hitting her, the fire and the smell of smoke, the feeling of falling-
When she opens her eyes, she's crouched on the floor, fingers clutching her hair so tight that there's stars flickering in her vision. Her breathing is ragged, panicked, her eyes seemingly a brighter pink as the shimmer in her body reacts to her state.
She looks at him again, blinking as she tries to calm herself, her hands are still in her hair.
“Vander?”
Her voice is small, childish. She can’t focus, she’s so confused.
@guiltrot sent: “Heard about what happened. Heard there’s one still missing.“ (Have young vander meeting Silco for the first time tho)
Slowly drying blood smeared itself across Silco’s nose, which had been just short of being broken due to the force those damned brutes had been throwing at him. Their size hadn’t deterred the young Silco, who had thrown himself at them with all the force his young body could muster, just for a chance to get his hard-earned coin back from them. It hadn’t gone well, resulting in Silco being thrown against a wall with all the delicacy of a boulder. It was days like this he cursed the fact he never had an ounce of muscle on his form, but it would seem the gift of a large physique was something he couldn’t receive. Long fingers drug themselves down his features before he looked up towards the man who had decided to come check up on him. His blue eyes darted between his fingertips, as though judging if he could trust this new man or not, but eventually he stood up so as he could face him with both of feet planted.
“Yeah? Sure you could hear a whole lot with all the blunder those bastards were saying.” The youth stated with a huff, hands resting on his hips as he looked up at the other. “Wouldn’t be surprised if they already spent half of my HARD EARNED MONEY--” He shouted that down the alleyway, though he doubted the brutes were around anymore to hear it. “--on bad booze and equally bad company.” His eyes locked once more on the stranger and he snorted.
“Why do you care? It wasn’t your fight.”
@guiltrot sent:
The water is cold, his body sinks. It's familiar. The burn eats his flesh, fills his veins. Staggering through the muck, he can only stumble himself out as far as the familiar spot. A treebranch catches his boots in the sticking mud-- Silco falls, and doesn't resist. The waters had been chasing him for years. Finally. Finally they could have him. Take his blasted body, and wash his spirit away. It wasn't peace, but it was a blank state that was as close to ease as he's felt in years. It felt like the first time Vander held his hand. Comforting. Encompassing. Insistently there. Silco doesn't even try to hold his breath, swallowing the water in the shallow stuttering final breaths in the cold river of runoff -- from the City of Progress.
Within the reflection of the water, just under the surface, it seemed to lurk. A big, hulking, massive thing with too many teeth and a gaping maw. It could always smell something in the water, like a shark to blood, and it knew it was time. Time to take and take and take.
"Well, well, well--" the voice rumbled, deep and tilted. A purr and a growl all in one, raising along with the lapping waters as they touch against Silco's wounds. Once more the blood was mixing with the water, soaking out of it like a breach in the earth's core. "Seems the prodigal son has come home."
The thing moves in mass, lurching up out of the darkness of the water, sludge and build up and weeds lounging over it. A pair of glowing eyes glint in the mass, marked equal with the massive teeth. However, in the brief moment, the thing seemed to lurch and twitch, then deflate, plunging once more into the waters. The thing that came out of the mass was much more familiar, as it wore a similar face to the kingpin floating in the muck.
"Not done with you yet, boy." The demon chuckled, familiar thin hands shifting to cup alongside both sides of Silco's head. It cradled him, almost like a child, though the thing that loomed over him hardly seemed paternal. The River King hummed as he moved to rise the man from the water. "Don't think I forgot about your pleas in the water last time we met here. I've come to collect."
“ well , that didn’t work . any plan c , genius ?? ”
a sigh escapes through his nose as his lips purse together, a hand raising to rub thoughtfully at his forehead. ❛ rest assured, i am trying my hardest to come up with one — not only on the spot, but also under pressure. ❜
though viktor hardly has a reason to feel guilt for snapping at silco as he just did, he ( unfortunately ) cannot control the fact he does indeed have morals. it seems they win this round as a glance is cast the other’s direction, brows remaining furrowed from emotion.
❛ it ... it maybe easier if you tossed me a bone here, admittedly. ❜
