Cıтч øf Bяøκeи Søυłš {ᶳᵉᵐᶤ⁻ᵃᵈᵛᵃᶰᶜᵉᵈ ʳᵒˡᵉᵖˡᵃʸ} discussion

This was to be an addition to the top of a skyscraper in the middle of the slums. However, the designer was making the building too fancy for the slums, and the city council halted the construction. Since then, the site is abandoned. The designer was made an example of in the streets.

Roleplay!

After a while, the silence was broken by a distant sound of a motor that soon grew louder as it neared the abandoned site. As the noise came closer it became apparent that it belonged to some sort of large pick-up truck which soon made an appearance, trekking along the road and soon slowed to a stop in front of the gate that which was placed to halt vehicles from entering the construction site. The truck then was put into idle before the door was opened and a tall brunette hopped out of the large truck. She stepped around the door and headed to the gate with a pair of chain cutters in her hand swinging along with movement. She wore sunglasses that hide her eyes and a good portion of her face though she wore shorts and a plaid shirt which was stained but also had large work gloves covering both of her hands. She soon arrived at the gate, swinging locks coming to a halt at her cease of movement and she soon got to work. It wasn't a minute or two later before she had the chain cut, took it out and pushed open the gate before she returned to her truck, hopped in, closed the door and continued on into the area. She parked near a pile of abandoned junk before she got out again, shut her truck this time and began looking through the junk, hunting down some pieces she could fix up and use since buying supplies weren't cheap.

Cherry was poking around in the piles of trash, finding a free good pieces she could use and tossed it into the back of her truck. She luckily had the strength to do this having worked with heavy parts and machines long enough to gain the muscle mass. She was tugging away some stone when she heard a faint ringing noise since she had an ear bud situated in her one ear. She straightened up immediately, knowing it wouldn't be good if some Council fanatic got the jump on her and put her into the slammer. Her hidden gaze landed on a guy a bit away, how she failed to notice him stunned her but oh well. She checked to see if he was a danger to her, noting his guitar and suspected he wouldn't do anything but Cherry was going to confirm that suspicion. She noticed that he'd glanced back at her and her cherry red lips curled into a smirk as she patted her gloves together before she headed right over towards the boy.

Cherry chuckled under her breath seeing the boy offering a small smile. She didn't stop until she strolled right up before him, arms crossed over her abdomen as she leaned more on her left leg as she stood looking at him through her shades. "Hay," she responded to his greeting and chuckled, "you'd be correct for the most part. First time here for me personally," she informed the boy before she tilted her head, "so I suspect you won't be reporting anything?" she asked straight upfront. She needed to know, it was illegal to trespass but also steal even if it was junk was still a crime.

Cherry matched his smile with her own grin after hearing those words, "great, then we don't have a problem here," she drawled, confirming her suspicion and the guy didn't look to be lying either. She gave a curt nod before she turned and headed back towards the junk pile she'd last visited. "Nothing in particular," she responded, "just some parts I can use," she stated. She crouched down, moving pieces around and pulling some out of the pile and dropped it behind her to deal with after. She pushed her shades back into place when they began to slip and soon stood up and began dumping the pieces she'd collected into the truck along with the others.

((I'm not sure))

Cherry finished with that pile but instead of moving to the next right away she paused and tilted her head, looking at him. "I'm a mechanic, vehicles being my specialty," she informed him. She then headed to the next closet pile, crouched down once more and proceeded doing what she was doing from before. "Hello Miles, you can call me Ivedra," Cherry stated. She used her alias for a reason, she didn't trust people too much besides anyone looking for her would know her by that name anyhow, only her family and friends called her Cherry. Though it was a shame, she wondered how he'd react knowing she was named after a fruit. She found a few more pieces and put them into the truck before she took off her gloves, deciding that would be good enough.

Cherry chuckled, "I agree, it's pretty cool, why more don't go into the field stuns me," she mused stepping back from the pile and looked at him. She laughed, "you don't, but I've been told it's sexy," she chuckled and was about to head for the truck to put her gloves away when the dust puffed up. She coughed and swatted at the air in front of her face until the dust had cleared. She shook her head, "don't be," she replied simply and went over to her truck, tossing her gloves in once she unlocked it and opened the door. She closed the door and looked at him when hearing the guitar and leaned against her vehicle watching him.

((Cherry wouldn't really know, she doesn't focus on that stuff, even if she did she wouldn't care too much))

Cherry laughed, "definitely something you should check out then," she teased. She continued to prop herself up using her truck, watching him as he strummed his guitar. She could accept someone loving music, she grew up with music in her household. Her mother was a dancer, well used to be she's a dance teacher now. Cherry shared her love for vehicles with her father but she loved dance just as much as her mother did. Hearing the strums of the guitar frankly just made her feel like dancing. It was one of the reasons she was okay with filling in for her best friend as a stripper some nights when he went off to basically attempt suicide.

((I'd stick with Ivedra to not confuse yourself and if she does eventually tell him her name then it would be up to him to use it or not))

Cherry laughed softly when he stopped, realizing what he'd been doing in the company of another. Not much fazed the mechanic, but living with a junkie and a hyper mother who didn't understand boundaries had shaped her that way. "Please, continue, don't let me stop you," she lightly teased him, running a hand through her hair to pull it back. Cherry watched Miles go over to a junk pile, bending down to pick something up by the looks of it. She pushed off her truck and wandered over curiously and looked at the watch he found. She let out a whistle, "nice find, is it broken?" she asked, stopping near him as she looked at the pocket watch.

Cherry nodded, seeing that, "you should get the mechanics checked either way, it would have rusted at least some from the elements," she pointed out and leaned back on her heels, looking at him. "I'd understand, they're classics," she drawled with a smirk of her cherry lips. She then though pulled out her phone, checking the time and swore out loud. "I'm going to be late," she growled to herself. She had to get to back with the junk she collected, put it away so the Council's dogs couldn't find it then she had to fix the damn car that Sol basically trashed. She nearly cut him a new one when he did that and after she knew he wasn't dead.

Cherry tilted her head back towards him, looking at him and gave him a weary smile, "oh, just got a schedule to keep up, mainly have to fix a car my friend totaled," she muttered and released a sigh. Cherry turned back towards her truck and rounded it to the driver's side. She paused for a moment and looked over at him, "need a ride anywhere?" she asked, since she was already here, might as well plus he was pretty chill. She smirked a bit, knowing Sol would describe him as hot.

Cherry snorted, "definitely was a 'nice' crash," she drawled and shook her head. She tilted her head to the side, leaning against her truck. "New environments get the creative juices flowing," she pointed out, "or so my mother says, who knows, you might make a kickass song somewhere besides an abandoned construction site?" she offered but shrugged. She pushed off the truck and slid into the driver's seat, closing the door behind her. She ignited the engine and then buckled up her seat belt. She then reached over to turn the radio on low and glanced at Miles to see if he changed his mind.

Cherry watched him make his way over to her side and as he reached her door. She rolled down the window and leaned back in her seat, her lips curled into a smirk, "course you can, hop on in," she responded and unlocked her truck for him to climb into the passenger seat. "It's not my shop either," she added casually, "it's my dad's shop, definitely hope to take over for him someday though."

Cherry chuckled and locked the door once he hopped in. "No problem, besides if you turn out to be someone who's going to attempt to kill me... let's just say I'm prepared," she stated lightly, a little teasingly with a smile. She paused for a minute or so before she turned out of there and headed out of the construction site. "For a long while I'm sure, doubt my dad will be handing it off to me until he's gone," Cherry stated as she stopped outside of the gate and quickly got out to re-chain the gate before she was back in and driving once more.

Cherry rolled her head over to look at him, smirking a bit at his question, "exactly," she responded, "though if I thought you would I wouldn't have allowed you in the car with me." She hummed and looked back at the road as she drive down the street. "43," she answered, "they had me when my mom was my age," she stated. She laughed, shaking her head a bit in amusement at his comment, "if I'm lucky but I'm fine with waiting," she finished. "So tell me about yourself."

((that's quite alright hate when that happens))

Cherry chuckled, "in this circumstance I don't mind, he puts me in charge of the place when he's not working so I'm basically the co-boss," she mused and glanced at him momentarily. She continued to drive, knowing they were getting close to the shop now, nearly out of the Slums area and into the heart of the city. She listened to what he began to say, noting how much he hesitated at first. Cherry chuckled, "don't give me too much credit, I knew you were a musician cause of the guitar, though I don't recognize you, I might of heard your songs before but I listen to the radio and never really focus on what's said besides the music," she responded. She then glanced at him at a stop light. "Even still, I'm not the type of person, I like music but my obsession is directed at cars and motorbikes," she stated with a smirk, "no offense of course." She turned and continued driving.

((xD *trying to remember* ohhhh haha for sure))

Cherry nodded a bit in reply as she drove, listening to what he had to say about his career. "I could only imagine," she mused, "wouldn't want that life for myself though, but I understand your reasons for wanting to do it," she replied after he'd finished speaking. She glanced at him briefly before she turned into the shop's parking lot. She laughed at what he decided to add, "I'll have to see this," she teased, "a man with many talents," she drawled and looked at him, "have to say, as much as I'm obsessed about my job, I like dancing equally as much," she revealed before she took out her keys and hopped out of her trunk.

((Switch to Stone Auto Repair Shop??))

((either or, I don't mind))

Continued at the Stone Auto Repair Shop

Lycus was in the abandoned construction site. There wasn't an actual reason for him to be. He'd just known he didn't want to be at the headquarters or his flat. Too many people or visions of blood in each. He'd never come here before, but when he'd seen it from the street . . . . It looked like the perfect place to throw things or huddle up and sob into his knees. Right now? Now he was leaning against a wall, his hands clutching the metallic material like a vise. His lips had curled up in a snarl for no reason, no real reason at least. He wanted to cry, too. For once, his make-up was off, so the evidence of the few tears that had spilled would be very little.

Outside of her workshop, this was one of Lyrania's favorite places to be. After all, she used metal and things when she built, and this place had nothing but scraps of metal. It was perfect. But usually, she was alone here. So when the large dog by her side whined and stared in the opposite direction, Lyra straightened instantly, shoving the scrap of metal into the pocket of her baggy black cargo pants. She followed the dog as he started forward, and eventually wound up in front of someone. "Hello?" She asked hesitantly, fidgeting slightly. People were not her strong suit. She knew how machines worked, but not humans. But she did know which she preferred over the other. "Is there anything I can do to help you?" She offered, awkwardly shifting her weight from foot to foot a couple yards from him, the big dog sitting beside her now.

Lycus actually snarled at the woman. Her hair -- it was reddish. Like fire. Like blood. Like so much blood. Lycus's mind was immediately taken to all the blood on the floor, streaming like serpents from the dead body on the floor. And it had been his doing. Lycus blinked, his snarl quickly fading until he collapsed in on himself, shrinking back against the metal and curling into a tiny, sobbing ball on the ground. How had he done that?! Oh, Lyria, he thought, no wonder you hate me! You should hate me! His lip curled slightly, and the little ball he's made himself into fell over. He was on his side now, staring towards a different metal pile, tears in his eyes.

Now Lyra wanted to help him more than ever, but she got the impression that he might go for the throat if she got too close. So she sat down right where she was, crossing her legs underneath her. "My name is Lyrania, but a lot of people call me Lyra or Rania or even Rain." She said in an even voice, scratching behind Malik's ears. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small mass of metal, though it was arranged in a very specific, purposeful way. "I'll be right here. Just let me know if you want to talk, or what you want me to do. Don't worry. If you don't want to be alone, I won't leave you." She produced a screwdriver from another pocket and a small wire and piece of metal, carefully working the metal into her creation. Strands of her hair fell into her face as she leaned over her work, and almost impatiently she paused to throw it back into a ponytail. She inserted the screwdriver to the center, working it through the tangles, and tightened something. Then, all at once, it began to move. Once it did it was plain what it was: a small bird. With her addition and adjustment it unfolded its wings and worked them up and own, though that was all it could do. She smiled happily, lifting the bird up to study it. But as usual, she wasn't quite satisfied. She almost never was, always knowing it could be better.

LyraLyraLyraLyra Lycus made a choking sound. The name was just so fucking close to the name that belonged to the woman who was all that remained of his battered soul. He made a slightly choked sound and clenched his fist so that his jagged nails drew blood from his palm. There were a lot of scars like that on his hand. He moaned slightly, blinking a bunch of times. Not his sister in front of him, he reminded himself. Firegirl. Girl with blood hair. Bloodgirl. Perry's blood. He bit his lips, protecting his tongue from the saltiness of the tears that threatened to get into his mouth. Lycus forced himself to sit up. He was a functional human being, obviously. Not a dog. Not something feral. Not a whore. Not still a teenager. A living being. Sentient being. Function. Function. Function. He gasped. "Linwood," he managed, his black eyes struggling to meet hers, "Rowan Linwood." He pushed himself up into a sitting position. He pushed himself a few paces further from Lyriana, but he didn't get to his feet and run. Which was something, at least. It meant he was nervous around her but not entirely scared of her. A wolfish smile from his youth crossed his face. "Do whatever you like."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Rowan Linwood. I wish it was under better circumstances though." Lyrania mused, smiling at him faintly. "Is there anything I can do to help you?" She offered, then winced slightly. "Well. That's just great. Sorry about this. I'm not the greatest at... Well, people in general. I prefer things where I can take them apart and see how they tick." She held up the bird as an example, chuckling slightly. She lowered it, taking a screwdriver to it again as she spoke. "My friend here is Malik." She paused to scratch the dog behind the ears affectionately. "He won't bite." She said simply, then looked back at her little bird. It wasn't how she wanted it. It wasn't right, and she knew it. It was supposed to be opening its beak too, and it wasn't. Lyra hated it when she did something wrong. She had been raised to know that nothing she ever did would be right. And she tried to prove them wrong, and usually could. But the times where she couldn't were the ones she always thought about, not the ones where she succeeded. She sighed unhappily at the little bird, frowning. Most people though she was just kind of an eccentric perfectionist when it came to her creations, which was true. What they didn't get was why she was so obsessed with making everything as perfect as possible. She could almost hear the slap on her cheek and her mother's reaction to the faulty bird, and she flinched slightly, as if she had actually been slapped. "I'm not going to hurt you." She said suddenly to Lycus even as she pulled wires out of the bird and started to rework them. "I know that you have no reason to believe me when I say that so it's kind of an empty statement, but hey. I figured it couldn't hurt to say it anyway." She smiled slightly.

He tilted his head to the side slightly, casting her a leery look in her direction. His eyes were wide, almost blank in their stare. Help? What did help even mean? No one'd ever even thought about helping him before. He'd helped, though. He'd kept his sister alive. Lyria. And then that crippling sense of guilt was back, that guilt that made him want to double over and wretch, that guilt that had led to the scars on his wrist and all that blood on the floor. His eyes shut as he watched the phantom trails spilling from his wrists along with his life. Not, not with his life. Maeve'd found him. Why? That was a question, wasn't it? He sighed through his nose. He sniggered, even that mocking laugh sounding a bit bitter. "Help me? Ha. You're not gonna do that. People like fucking and they like their fucking freedom." His lip curled. "Wanna help? Then'd ya stop with your fucking lies?!" He curled his upper lips up -- another snarl. There was another growl in the back of his throat.

He turned to her dog. Malik. That's what the Lyria-mockery in front of him had called him. He felt an odd urge to call him Drat. He could not quite explain the urge. The dog he had not noticed previously, but now he watched it with scary intensity as if plotting its demise. He wasn't for all that he despised some dogs. Having heard "doggy style" for years was not the problem. No, when he was about fifteen, he had been forced to have sex with a dog by one his clients. A familiar disgust welled within him. He scratched at his skin as if trying to pull it off. Uncleanuncleanuncleanuncleanunclean He gasped as he looked down and saw blood welling on some of the scratch marks.

((*sorry had to comment* I feel like crying! OH LYCUS YOU NEED A HUGGGGG!))

When he snapped at her and snarled, Lyra flinched back sharply. She moved so quickly and severely the bird slipped from her hand, hitting the ground and exploding into hundreds of tiny metal pieces, some of which ripped minuscule slashes into her exposed arms and hands, some ripping her pants. She stared at him fearfully, pulling her legs up to her chest. The fear never left her eyes as she spoke, but her voice was mostly calm except for the scared waver in the back. "I've never had sex. Well, not by my choice anyway. And I've never really had freedom." She said simply, shrugging half-heartedly. Swallowing hard, she sighed as she looked down sadly at the remnants of what had been her creation.

Despite herself Lyra wasn't stupid, and she noticed his reaction to her dog. "Malik, home." She told the dog, closing her eyes in resignation. The big dog whined reluctantly but obeyed, turning tail and weaving off through the piles of metal until he vanished. That may have been very stupid. Now she was defenseless with a complete psycho. But she had told him she would try to help him, and though she had her flaws, she didn't lie. As long as he was willing to accept her presence, she would try to help. She opened her eyes to look over at him, "I do want to help you. But I'm not lying. I don't want to hurt you, I never want to hurt anyone. I never had anyone help me when I needed help. If I have the chance to help someone else, of course I'm going to take that chance."

Lycus stared at her for a second. She had no clue what he'd gone through or what he'd put himself through to protect Lyria. Every bit of it made him want to rip off every piece of flesh on his bones and bleach it until he could no longer feel any disgust. "How many?" Lycus took a step toward her, his eyes a little too wide and perhaps a little too interested. He tilted his head to the side. "Do you know how many?" There was something desperate in his voice when he snapped. "Do you know how many fucking people you've let into that little chamber women think they keep so fucking secret? DO YOU?" Maybe he wanted someone else who had no clue, who had never been able to figure it out. He took a breath, heavy and long, some sort of feral need to know still pasted on his face.

"Of course you're lying," Lycus countered, not moving a step away, his breath still heavy, each breath still hitting her face as he exhaled. His lip curled up. Disgust, though he couldn't tell at what he was reviled. "No one helps anyone." It was a statement of fact. And no one accepted that people helped either. Or maybe no one cared. Lyria's never known anything he'd done for her. She'd never thanked him. She wouldn't believe him if he told her. How could she not know? She hated him, she would never recognize any good in him, he was disgusting and vile, and she had to be wondering how she had been able to live with him, a pig and monster. Something broke in Lycus's face.

Lyrania flinched back, staring at him plaintively. "Please-" She began, but he didn't stop pushing her about it. She kept leaning back, beginning to tremble, and finally just covered her ears with her hands, her fingers tangling in her hair. "Stop it, please just stop it, I don't know how many, stop it! I don't know!" She cried out, closing her eyes tightly. She forced herself to breath slowly, and gradually her hands slid down from away from her ears. "It- well, it was because of my mother. We never got along, she never wanted me. But she found a use for me and she used to make people pay and-" She stopped, her knees pulling tighter up to her chest. She hugged her legs to herself, her eyes still closed.

"You're half right." She said at last. "No one helped me. That's why I want to help other people." She said pleadingly. She finally opened her eyes and looked up at him. Her deep brown eyes were still frightened but also sincere. She swallowed hard, glancing down. "I'm not lying. I promise you. I realize that doesn't help me at all, but... My word is all I can offer you." She said softly, though she knew that wouldn't be enough. Her gaze went back up to his, swallowing hard. "Please. I don't want to hurt anyone, especially someone who's already been hurt far too much. Like you." She said simply, then cringed back as if expecting another burst of anger from him. She wasn't stupid. She could tell from his reaction and just how he was something bad had happened to him, but she had no idea what or how he'd been messed with.

Lycus leaned in and wiped a tear from Lyrania's cheek and stuck it in his own mouth. The salt stung slightly, but he savored the pain. He felt some feeling stir in his chest, something like vindication but not quite. Her fear was almost satisfying. It was something, he supposed, to see someone else break down about prostitution. There was something bitter in Lycus, too. How come she got to be so functional after when he was just a hollow shell? He growled slightly under his breath, but it was not a threatening sound the way the others had been. This was a sound more of self-loathing and frustration. God, why couldn't Lyria be here to save him? LyriaLyriaLyriaLyriaLyriaLyriaLyra. That was the girl in front of him who had shut her eyes in disgust at him. He scrambled away much like an animal.

Lycus curled his lip of some conglomeration of emotions too cluttered and fleeting to name. "Ha, as if. You need there to be other sorry souls like you, don't you? You need them so low so you can feel better about yourself by bringing them back up." Definitely a taunt. Maybe that was how he viewed Maeve, Maeve and her doctor-y friend. And his own daughter, so innocent, was terrifying. He was more scared of her than he was anything else, except maybe himself and prostitution. Even Lyria on some days was terrifyingly perfect. "What," he started again, "the fuck would you know about me? Why do you assume I'm the good guy? I could have done some horrible shit, you know." And as far as he was concerned, he had. And he despised himself for it. His gaze settled for a second on his wrists, where underneath his clothing lay scars from when he'd been prevented from ending it all. He then stared up at her, dark eyes meeting.

Lyra couldn't help her instinctive response to flinch back as he reached for her face, but she couldn't move too much and instead forced herself to stay still, staring at him. Her breathing sped up, unable to disguise the fear, but she didn't make any moves to push him away or anything. When he moved back she sighed in relief, but as before, she was too stubborn to move from her spot. She swallowed a couple times and wiped the wetness from her face, rubbing her eyes with her sweatshirt sleeves.

After composing herself, she cleared her throat and spoke again. "I don't doubt that you have done bad things. But everyone has. In different degrees of badness, yes. But... well...You have me out here, alone, and I think you know I couldn't protect myself. You hate me already, and have had plenty of opportunities to hurt me, but you notice you haven't taken any of them. I seem to have accidentally pissed you off. And if you wanted, I could be dead or dying or maimed right now. But I'm not."

She was wrong, of course. He didn't hate her, at least not for her. He hated himself, himself for all the things he'd done and the person that he was. He laughed, even that gesture somehow reviling. If he were angry properly, there'd be every chance she would actually be dead. Like Perry. Lycus did not even know what had set him off then. What had set him off then. OhGodohGodohGod could he really not remember anymore. The thought made him want to wretch. How could he let that happen? He was supposed to remember. He wanted to know. He imagined it was something stupid.

And then he remembered. He'd been pissed because Perry had come in yelling about the sex Maeve had coerced him into. And that thought made the disgust in him rise too. Disgust at her. She was his girlfriend these days. Girlfriend. Punishment. It was all the same difference anyway. She was disgusting. He was a wretch, not worthy of life. He needed something in his life to prove what a piece of shit he was. "Maybe you should be dead," he spat. "I should be. Everyone should be. But you more than anyone else." Anyone else, implying that she deserved it more than anyone not him. In his mind, he was the worst person in existence and deserved everything Hell could throw at him.

((Are you still here?))

((Yes, we are. We'll be marked as done when we leave))

Tilting her head to study him, Lyra raised an eyebrow at him. "Maybe you're right. Maybe, maybe I should be. Maybe we all should be. But if I may, I'd like to ask a question." She shifted in her spot, hugging her knees to her chest and resting her chin on them. "Obviously, you don't have to answer it. And you could kill me for it if you wanted, but I'd prefer you didn't, please." She said, her voice surprisingly steady and calm-- though she wasn't feeling steady or calm at the moment.

"What makes you so horrible you deserve to die anymore than anyone else?" She asked him cautiously, though curiously. "You said earlier you could have done some "horrible shit." And then you specified yourself in your little dead speech. Why do you hate yourself so much? I mean, I get it. No one it exactly happy in their own skin, we all have regrets. But why are you so determined to hate yourself?"

Lycus snarled and turned away from her to smash his hand against some metal. he was about to answer, really he was. And then he noticed the blood on his hand. He stared at it a moment. He breathed heavily, unable to keep from staring at those red droplets, the raised skin where his hand had scraped the metal. A sob caught in his breath. How had he come to this? Howhowhowhowhowhow? He was an orator, a damn good one with all the emotions her could put into his words, but now he was a wreck like this. He couldn't stop the wetness of tears from sliding down his face.

"Why wouldn't anyone hate me?" Lycus managed, still unable to draw his eyes from his own blood. He took a finger and pressed his hand to the bleeding wounds. He then brought it up to his face to stare at it. He then brought it to his mouth and tasted the iron-y liquid. If he shut his eyes, he could still almost feel everything he'd done, everything that had been done to him. He wanted to shudder or vomit or rip off all his own skin. Vilevilevilevileuncleanuncleanuncleandirty He pulled his hand from his mouth as if suddenly repulsed and shook it as if trying to get rid of some sort contaminant. "Go away," he whined, holding his hand as far from the rest of him as he could manage. He leaned back against the metal and tried to cower from his hand. He gave a pleading look to Lyra.

"I don't hate you." Lyra promised, smiling slightly. "If you want me to leave I will. But... Hold on. Just give me two minutes." She said sincerely, rising to her feet and backing off. "I'll be right back." Whipping around, she took off, dodging different piles of metal. After a couple minutes of searching, she finally found what she was looking for. She paused and looked in the mirror at the convenience store, making extra sure to double check that all of the almost perpetual oil that smudged her.

But then she grabbed a couple other things before she ran back to Lycus. "Here. Let me help you." She soothed, reaching out carefully with one scrubbed clean hand. She cracked open one of the water bottles and used it and a freshly bought and clean rag to wipe the blood from his hand. Once she was done she set the water bottle and clean towels down beside him, then stepped back and away. "There. It's alright. If you want me to go I will. But is there anything else you need before I go?" She asked cautiously.

Lycus stared as she cleaned his wound, but his eyes were more focused on the blood running down his palm than the cloth and hands cleaning it all up. He whimpered but not from pain. It was from the memory of being the one standing over a dead body. He could remember other blood, too, blood dripping from his wrists, from the razor he'd used to slit them. The blood bloodbloodbloodbloodbloodblood had dripped down onto his jeans, staining the blue fabric brown and the white fabric of his sweater red. When he woke up whywhywhywhy, he'd gone home and seen those puddles of blood dried on the floor. All of this he saw, staring at those little droplets of blood. This time, when the tears dripped down his cheeks, they were silent. He took a second to process what Lyra had said before almost pouting and then shaking his head emphatically.

((Maybe after Lyra leaves I can have Krissy find him?))

((Sounds good to me))

"If that's what you want." Lyra sighed, biting her lip as she looked at him. Reluctantly she rose to her feet, studying him as she slowly backed away. Once she was out of sight she stopped moving and thought hard. It felt wrong leaving someone so broken alone. He obviously had some issues and she wanted to help him, but he didn't want her to. Besides, she didn't even know how to begin helping him. She was hovering there, debating with herself anxiously, when another figure moved forward. The new figure glanced around and saw Lycus, then nodded to Lyra and moved forward. Lyra felt a bit better now that someone else was here with him, and she started off home.

"The others were wondering where you were. And I figured it'd be better if I found you than one of them." Krissy gave a half smile, sinking down to sit beside him, though not quite touching. She knew by now to be careful around him, but she didn't see he point in treating him like he was some intruding alien. He'd been through horrible things, and so had she. She was as broken as he was, she just didn't have the luxury of showing it, since she hadn't been able to escape prostitution the way he had. She reached into her messenger bag and pulled out a book, opening it and staring at it. She wanted to learn to read. She'd never had the opportunity to learn it, despite her brilliance. But she so wanted to. Every chance she had she forced herself to try and figure it out, but she was gaining nothing. Still, she didn't want to bother Lycus. If he wanted to talk he would.

Lycus didn't even really notice as Lyra left, though he sort of registered it, knowing that she'd moved, without processing what exactly she was doing. He registered the new figure approaching him and stiffened, eyes widening in alarm. He was already scrambling backwards before he really registered that he actually knew the person approaching and that she was actually a positive person in his life. As positive as it got for him, at the very nice. She was nice, but he just wasn't Lyria, his sister. LyriaLyriaLyriaLyria sistersistersississis

Kristelle, he finally registered the approaching figure as. Lycus felt heat rising to his cheeks at having been in such a state as now. Often he could pull it together long enough to do speeches, to do other despicable deeds, to be around his sister. He always used to to some extent for those times. But he'd always been needy and emotionally distraught. Once temper had been his worst except around Lyria. To her, he's always been clingy and overprotective, especially after his crush on her had begun. But after his sister had joined the resistance as a soldier, any control he had had was shattered completely and utterly. He swallowed and straightened slightly while not bothering to disguise the nervousness in his eyes. "Hello."

Krissy had two options here. Tell him that his actions were alright and it wasn't his fault, or pretend it never happened. She choose to carry on as if nothing had happened. "Hello Lycus. What brings you all the way out here?" She asked curiously, looking over at him. Then her gaze fell back down to the book in her lap. Her grip on it tightened and she fought the urge to just throw it across into a pile of metal, never to be seen again. She hated not being able to do something. Absolutely despised it. It frustrated her beyond belief that she was as smart as she was and yet couldn't do something as simple as reading. She shoved the book back into her bag, gritting her teeth slightly.

"Your hair is just as fabulous as always. It's not fair for you to have better hair than I do." She pouted teasingly, smiling faintly as she looked over at him. She had good hair, but it was dark, dark brown. As most people with dark hair often were, she had always thought blonde hair looked better. She bit her lip lightly, carefully wording her question. "Lycus, would it be alright if I braided your hair? If you don't want me to I'm not going to get offended. You don't have to keep the braid in, but people playing with my hair has always calmed me down, and I'd think it's that way for some other people. And playing with hair has always been as calming, and I need to find some way to relax after the day I had." She sighed slightly. "Again, I swear I won't if you don't want me to."

Lycus stared at her dolefully and swallowed. Benormalbenormalbenormalbenormalbenormal "I fancied a stroll, and this seemed a nice place -- look at all that the government was unable to manage lying around." Eloquent, but not the truth. Even the bit about the government not being able to manage it was lies -- the government had halted the construction of the place. And Lycus knew they both knew it, but they were good words. Lycus knew that, too. Lycus tugged at his hair slightly at her comment and frowned. He'd never cut it from his prostitute days, and it was one of the things, with his make-up, that people had always found the most attractive about him. He number of times it had been used to tie him up or pulled to make him do something . . . . Lycus shivered and pulled a strand of his hair around to stare at it in almost disgust. Maybe he should cut it. Knife. Knifeknifebloodbloodlostlostlostlost Lyria had always braided his hair, and the thought made him want to cry. He needed to buy another gift for Lyria. Then maybe she'd want him to exist again. Why would she though? She hated him. He deserved to be hated. Her ire made him want to cease existing. He'd tried. He wished he'd succeeded. Slowly, Lycus shrugged.

It was then that Lycus noticed the book in Kristelle's hand. He'd learned to read. Technically. He'd stopped school early, way early, because he'd needed to get money to take care of his sister. To get food and money. He'd learned some things in the library, but he'd been forced to stop that, too. His reading . . . well, since he'd escaped thanks to that one kind soul, Sable, he'd tried to read but found he didn't remember much and was on a lower reading level. He'd torn the book to pieces in frustration and thrown it across the room. He'd not tried again. He could write, though. It was easier than the reading. His hand had not forgotten the muscle memory, but it was a slow process and his handwriting was atrocious, akin to that of a child. "And that?" He gestured to the book.

Krissy flinched, looking down at the book as if ashamed. "Well... It's just..." She sighed, shoving the book deeper into her bag. "I never learned to read. I didn't exactly have the opportunity to go to school. But still I'm pretty smart and I can still get most things. But reading... And it seems like such a simple thing..." She trailed off with a shrug as she bit her lip. After a second she forced herself to laugh it off, shaking her head as if it wasn't a big deal. But it was. It bothered her so much that she couldn't read, but she didn't dare let that show. "It's whatever. It's not a big deal. Just... don't worry about it."

She shifted in her spot, but was obviously desperate for something to do. She reached up and gathered her dark hair all over to one side, raking through it with her fingers. She split it into three large chunks, carefully pulling apart the tangles. Then she started to braid it, looping it together loosely. After a couple seconds she decided she didn't like that anymore and undid it to start over, this time braiding it tighter.

Lycus snorted, lost in his own thoughts about reading. He'd left his sister at the library a lot because he'd once trusted the librarians. But as he'd gotten older, he hadn’t had the time to practice. Reading and writing were arduous processes now for which he had little patience. He had taken to finding public phones and calling his sister's sistersistersistersistersister mobile. Hhe hadn’t had enough for it, not really, but he’d needed to give Lyria gifts to win her back, something he'd been trying for a year. "I liked books once, you know." There was an unspoken comment there about having lost it through his shitty situation.

Looking over at him, Kristelle instantly knew what he was talking about. And she was also instantly desperate to change the subject. She didn't want him to have to remember all of that. She was very selfless, but if talking about herself was what was required to save him from thinking about what happened to him, then that's what she would have to do. She sighed slightly, biting her lip. Talking about herself wasn't exactly her usual style. "I always wanted to like them. My friend learned to read even after everything, but I can't really go see her a lot and I had different circumstances, so I never learned myself and she can't teach me."

"My sister can read," Lycus said. There wasn't any bitterness that she could in his voice. In fact, there was the opposite. Pride. Everything he'd done he'd done for her. Done to keep her safe. Lyria was smart, smarter than he was if he were being honest -- but of course, in his mind, Lyria was the best at everything. She was perfect. A sappy smile came to Lycus's face like it only did when he talked of his sister. And then everything else suddenly hit him. He remembered he hadn't seen her in a year, and then suddenly, he was biting his lip tot try to keep himself from crying.

So close to being caught off guard, Krissy almost blurted out 'mine too'. That would not have been good. Each sister kept each other secret from everyone, only casually mentioning them as nothing but 'good, old friends' if they had to talk about each other at all. They were as close as they could be, given the circumstances. But she really felt bad for Lycus. He never meant any harm. Of course him loving his sister wasn't normal, but was that his fault? With a sigh Krissy shifted closer to him, hugging him for a moment before backing off to give him his space. "Hey. It's alright. Give it some more time. How could she not see how great you are?" She coaxed, unsure what exactly to say. "If she likes to read, why don't you get her a book? Come on, I can take you. I'll pay for it. You can pick out a good book that she'll enjoy and mail it to her. We can get someone to write a letter that you dictate to send along with it." She encouraged sweetly, her desire to help obvious.