What Began As a Dull Evening, Tag: any and all Insurgi

[Aras]

“Can I get you something other than water?” the bartender asked patiently, leaning his elbows on the bartop in front of Aras.
“Milk?” she replied uncertainly. The draconian raised an eyebrow at her. “I don’t drink.” She was feeling a little out of place here alongside the other Venus Fly dwellers perched atop stools and buried in their cups.
It was getting late (by her standards, anyway: Aras liked to be in bed by 9), but she knew she’d end up staying for another few hours at least. She’d been spending every night at the Venus Fly for the past few weeks, ever since the latest escape from the labs. She accompanied the officer patrols down and then sat at the bar until she couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer and headed home.

She wasn’t sure what she was hoping for, exactly. If the escapees showed up she wasn’t going to be much help; she wasn’t an officer, she had no license to assist in the capture of criminals. What she was really hoping – or dreading – was that Dicen would appear. There wasn’t much she could do for him if he did, but maybe she could calm him down, get him to come quietly so that no one got hurt, get him a lighter sentence. She wondered if there was such a thing as a lighter sentence for a twice-convicted traitor and murderer. She couldn’t help feeling like just another spring in the mouse trap the Insurgi had set for her brother, but maybe she could coax it into a Have-a-Heart.

She took another glance around the bar. Still no sign of Dicen, Damien, or the two humans. Isabelle and Asher were supposed to be leading the patrol that day. Asher was posted outside – she had greeted him on the way in – but Isabelle was uncharacteristically late. She knew Izzie would be her ally in trying to take the escapees into custody without hurting them, but she wasn’t sure Asher shared their pacifistic outlook. The methods and attitudes of the Insurgi as a whole were changing a lot lately.

[Isabelle]

ooc~ I'm combining threads, and liquid time says that it is now evening >_< I also pretended that Maldrid introduced himself by name to avoid confusion, though if he wouldn't have done so I'll remove that part

bic~ Izzie shook her head, "I'll probably be fine, but you can come along if you like." She watched Sally bustle around and flip the sign on their door so it read 'closed.' She didn't blame her for wanting to warn the neighbours and have a look around. This was her city too...

"Alright, you both might as well come. But, uh, I'll be going to the Venus Fly first. My cousin's probably hanging around there, and she could help figure out what's on the needle. She might already have a sample if someone found another before this one." She slung her purse over her shoulder and walked out the door, gesturing for both Maldrid and Sally to come with her.

The cafe was close enough to the border that it didn't take long to cross into Cri and reach the Venus Fly. She doubted anything would happen, but she kept a wary eye open regardless. Sally's mortality only seemed truly vulnerable in Malum...

She paused outside the Venus Fly. It looked so plain from the outside, but you could hear the steady thump of bass vibrating in your toes. "Uh, just warning you, in case you've never been in here... well, it's... it's something, that's all I'll say," Izzie said, waving to the bouncer as he opened the door for them. 'Surgs got special privileges here.

She kept an eye on the two she was with while glancing around for her cousin. She spotted Aras quickly enough, sitting forlornly on a stool at the glass bar. She didn't look all that comfortable. Izzie waved Sally and Maldrid over and quickly took a seat beside Aras. "Sooo, no luck I'm assuming. I thought you might be bored, so I brought you a present. These two came along with me, because they witnessed the... crime... whatever it was. Aras, this is Sally and Maldrid. Maldrid, Sally, this is my cousin, Aras." She procured the plastic bag from inside her purse and held it gingerly. "I stabbed my hand on a needle that was stuck in the door handle of Sally's cafe. It has some gunky substance on the end. I'm not sure what it was. My hand's still bleeding though, look!" She held out her palm. The pinprick was still beading a little, though a lot less than before. "Maybe this is some new weapons technology, something to slow down the healing process and kill phoenixes or dracs before they mend?" She wasn't the scientist.

[Sally]

Before heading out of her cafe, Sally had grabbed her shotgun from under the counter and strapped it over her shoulder. She merely shrugged on her way out.

"I'm mortal an' I'm old, sweetheart." she said to Isabelle, "You don't get this old without takin' a few precautions an' being a really good shot. Let's go then."

As they'd walked she'd called out to a few of her neighbors and told them to check their doors for sabotage, but otherwise she kept moving. Her walk was brisk as they arrived at the Venus Fly. Sally had heard of it and seen it from the street, but she'd never been curious enough to take a look inside. It had never seemed the kind of place for her particular demographic. Old and human.

Still, she found the whole experience rather interesting. She was literally the only human there, and the whole place was lively and loud.

"Ah, this brings me back," she thought aloud, "Jack & Sally's Cafe used to be Jack & Sally's Pub back in the day, fer a short time. Soon found out we preferred cleanin' up coffee grounds at the end o' the night s'tead of vomit n' broken glass."

She nodded when they met Isabelle's cousin and glanced around absently. Usually she felt nervous in a new environment, but so far the patrons seemed harmless enough. She turned back to the Phoenixes and tuned back in to their conversation.

[Lex]

Ooc: Edited a tiny bit because Lex somehow ended up in the club before Dice even though he was following the tracking device. Whoops. ;; All better.

Lex sat in the back of the carriage, waiting. The back and forth motion as it sped toward its location but didn’t seem to get any further was grating on his nerves. The landscape was all the same, even in the city, shop after shop. Any one of them could have been where Dice was headed. Today was the day, the one they had agreed on. Lex hadn’t activated the tracking device until today because he could only manage to make it last for four hours. He would have liked to have known where Dice had been hiding out, but it was better this way, not to go behind his back. Even as a terrorist, he tried to remain respectable. That didn’t mean that he hadn’t thoroughly planned this, though. As soon as he’d found out that Isabelle was on guard that day, he had planted a needle in the doorway of Sally’s café. She was the most likely one to interfere with his plan to find Dice. This particular drug prevented phoenixes from regenerating.

It was always harder when you knew people, even in the Insurgi. As much as he hated them on a whole, he loved some individually. Dice didn’t count, he supposed, but what about Aras? She was as crazy as the rest of them about phoenix supremacy, but she had dyed his hair when he was younger, a pale orange or sometimes yellow. She would flick her dye stained fingers at him when he would move or pretend to fall asleep, streaking his face and clothes with speckles of orange and gold.

He really didn’t want things to get messy here. He gently touched the cold barrel of his gun, hidden within his jacket. He didn’t like guns. They were too simple. One bullet and you were out, your insides torn through or shredded, pulled apart. Bombs weren’t elegant, but they were beautiful at least, at first cold and calculating—tick. tick. tick.—and then, fiery and dangerous. From afar you could watch them like a sunset, and getting close was like you were nearing the sun itself, and you got sweaty and charred, but at least you were a part of it. None of this dodging behind tables and firing bullets, having so little control over where they would go. He liked needles too, and he had brought at fair supply of drugs, all manufactured to fit inside a modified tranq gun. EDs, tranqs, stims, memory erasure drugs, and less subtle ones too--drugs that sent fiery bile raging up your esophagus, drugs that made your skin prick as though you’d fallen onto a thousand needles.

He looked at the pulsing green dab on the screen of his navigator. The problem with this device was that it didn’t give context very well. There were no shops, no roads, just a rudimentary grid. He was glad that he knew Dice’s general area or that green point would have represented nothing, a frustrating dream, like transforming without being able to fly. They were getting closer, though; he could feel it. “Stop!” he yelled, a little too loudly, as the dot hovered in place. The carriage screeched to a halt, throwing Lex against the back of the front seat, and the horse whinnied in protest. “There, there,” Lex said, but his voice was too soft and far away to sooth the horse that was pulling the carriage. The spot on the scene quivered for a moment, but then kept moving, slowly.

He looked up, still half inside the carriage. Lights flickered on and off above a plain looking bar-- “The Venus Fly.” Somewhat aptly named, it seemed. The electric buzz of the sign reminded Lex of a mosquito lamp. It seemed to be the only active place in the vicinity. Dice must be headed there. He looked at Hank and the rest of the thugs, whose blank faces didn’t give him much confidence. “Wait here, but come immediately it I call you, or if you hear anything. Got that? Immediately.” He headed toward the entrance of the bar, head down. It wasn’t so much to blend into the crowd as it was to avoid Dice, at least for now. He needed a minute. He wanted D to come to him instead of the other way around, to leave control in Dice’s hands so that he would trust him. Besides, it was a little like seeing someone after a long holiday. He always wanted to be noticed first; he wanted them to yell hello and grip his shoulder, while he could be passive and surprised. Despite his sometime un-gracefulness, Lex wasn't an awkward person. He neede to know what to do, to have something to react to.

Lex sat down at the bar, on a stool in the corner. It was crowded tonight, but most people seemed to be standing, some a little on edge. The middle seats at the bar were empty, and he hailed the bartender with a nod. “What’ll it be tonight?”

“Vodka tonic, please.”

The bartender nodded, friendly enough, and Lex smiled and raised an imaginary glass to the man. The navigator was in his pocket, but he refrained from looking at it and studied the faces of those at the bar instead.

Above the bass, he picked up chattering from the other side of the bar, and swiveled in that direction. With just a few words, he knew it had been Aras. Sure enough, there she was, her red hair shining under what little light there was in the bar. He waited for the bartender to place his drink on the counter and then grabbed it, shuffling under the lip of the bar and sitting on the floor, his legs wrapped around his barstool.

Lex almost thought he should laugh then. The whole situation was ridiculous, unexpected. It would be like a reunion—Lex, Aras, and Dice, how positively f-ing quaint. People were looking at him now. This was exactly what he hadn’t wanted. He got back up and brushed himself off. “Dropped something,” he muttered to abate the stares, and took a sip of his drink, hoping to convey an “I could care less” attitude. If Aras saw him, she saw him. Like with Dice, he’d leave this one up to her.

[Aras]

Aras glanced up curiously as the eclectic band entered the Venus Fly. Her cousin, a human, and a draconian. What very odd company Isabelle was keeping these days; Aras wasn’t sure how she felt about it. “’Evening, cousin,” she greeted, doing her best to smile. The strained expression answered Isabelle’s question about whether Dicen or the escapees had shown up. “I’ve been coming here every night for over two weeks, Izz. I’m beginning to think Terin and Asher didn’t do such a good job after all. That man we questioned might have been lying to our faces.” Should have used that truth serum after all, she thought, might have saved me a few evenings. Aras was not doing well these days, and it would be blatantly obvious to anyone who knew her well. Attending Faron’s funeral had not put her in good spirits, and ever since the break-in at her mother’s house her feelings about Dicen had fluctuated between searing hatred and deep worry and concern. These repeated late-night lone vigils at the Venus Fly were straining Claire’s patience to a dangerous point. The escape of those three test subjects had been about as much as what remained of her fragile nerves could withstand.

Izzie was right, she was also bored. It was nice to have some company, even that of non-phoenixes. At least she recognized one of them. “Good to see you, Sally. How’s the café? How’s Jack?” Jack and Sally were oddities in Eterno. It was very rare to see a visibly elderly person of any species within the city; phoenixes burned before taking on the marks of time, and draconians rarely looked more than 50 or 60 when they died from old age. Humans just tended not to live long enough to grey and wrinkle. The shotgun Sally was toting might have something to do with her good luck. “And…Maldrid, was it? Pleasure, I’m sure.” Her eyes wandered to the greatsword slung over his back. Where did he think he was, medieval England? That thing might pierce dragon scales, but it wouldn’t stop a bullet. Poor draconians all seemed a bit addled in the head. Maybe he was one of those Llorar Clan madmen.

She tilted her head quizzically as Isabelle procured the plastic baggy. “Someone stuck it in a door handle?” she repeated, not fully comprehending. She took the bag and held it up so that the flickering strobe lights illuminated it intermittently. She shook her head. “I don’t like this. This isn’t an Insurgi-issue syringe.” She rolled it over in the baggy, looking for the raven insignia, but found none. At the base of the plunger, in tiny raised print, were the letters ‘CCLITUEBC’. It was meaningless to her. “Let me see your hand.”

Isabelle’s small wound was still bleeding freely. Aras’s forehead creased in a scowl. “How long ago did you say it poked you?” Such a tiny prick should have healed in just a few minutes. “You’re right, it’s some sort of anticoagulant targeted for phoenix platelets, to slow down healing. Did anyone know you were going to the Pumpkin King today or tha-“

Her sentence died at the sight of a very familiar face emerging from under the bartop, looking a mite self-conscious. “Lex?” she said incredulously, her face splitting into a stunned smile. She hadn’t seen him in at least a century, thank god he was still alive! But then…it was Lex. If he was alive, he was supposed to be in prison. He may have escaped branding, but he was every inch as much a traitor as Dicen. Her smile became one of confusion, and then faded entirely. She didn’t want to draw too much attention to him. Officers had a duty to arrest criminals like him, and although Aras knew Isabelle was not your standard Insurgi officer, there was only so many times she could turn a blind eye on the criminal offenses of family and friends. But he might know where Dicen was! Aras frantically debated whether or not to greet him, but the decision was ultimately made for her.

The bar suddenly rang with the sound of guns discharging. Aras screeched in alarm, her hands flying over her mouth in embarrassment. She scrambled to her feet, standing on tip-toe to try and see through the door over the heads of the crowd. “What was that?” She could see a swell of red uniforms block the doorway as the Insurgi officers outside swarmed forward. ”You’re under arrest, hands in the air where I can see them!” bellowed a voice which Aras recognized as one of the officers. She exchanged a look with Isabelle. Had the escapees shown up at last? Gesturing for Sally and Maldrid to follow (the shotgun and greatsword could come in handy), she dashed to the doorway, pushing her way past bar patrons to see who the officers were arresting.

[Dice]

ooc: *posts FEVERISHLY before library kicks her out*

Dice clung to Nine’s bicep as they walked, glancing about nervously. And with good reason. Today was the day written on that piece of paper he’d found in his pocket after being drugged and abducted. He felt he had a right to be a bit paranoid, given that Nine suggested this was the day he’d be kidnapped again – or, worse, that his arm would explode. Dice had briefly considered cutting his elbow open to see what the Caedo had planted in him, but was concerned that might trigger it if it was some kind of harmful device. That, and the sight of the scalpel had made his stomach turn and his blood turn to ice. If the thought of such a simple procedure had freaked him out, he was going to have a lot of trouble implanting Nine’s scale.

He had avoided the house all day, fearful of the Caedo finding him there. He and Nine spent the day wandering through Cri, staying on the move, keeping away from the Fountain and the market. So far, they’d seen neither hide nor hair of a Caedo agent, nor had any of Dice’s limbs come flying off, and the day was almost over. “Maybe they forgot about me,” he shrugged uncertainly, “or decided I wasn’t worth their time. Or realized that I have a big, easily aggravated Draconian watching my back.” He gave Nine’s arm a squeeze. He hadn’t let the phoenix out of his sight for one second all day, and for that Dice was eternally grateful. “I think they just wanted to scare me. And it worked, too. I need a stiff drink after all that fleeing for my life.” The Venus Fly seemed as safe a place as any – the Caedo had no way of knowing he frequented it, given that he and Nine hadn’t gone there since their Very Bad Night. Their evenings had been a bit…occupied since they’d made up.

Dice was feeling rather cocky about evading the Caedo all day, so perhaps that was the reason he was not paying much attention as they neared the bar. Rounding the corner, Dice froze as he was met with a sea of all-too-familiar faces. An entire regiment of Insurgi officers were standing on duty outside The Venus Fly, as though waiting for him. Dice was frozen with shock, but then so were the officers. At last, one shook himself free of paralysis and reached for his gun; “Hey, it’s him, it’s Elkyone!” Dice reached for his own gun automatically, but the officer was too quick for him and fired. The E.D. dart whizzed over Dice’s head, missing his scalp by half an inch and instead lodging itself in Nine’s side as the draconian stepped forward protectively. Dice fired back and the man crumpled to the ground. “You okay, babe?”

Shooting the officer only seemed to make the situation worse. The Insurgi had them trapped against the wall of the bar. “How many you think you can take?” Dice hissed to Nine, standing back-to-back with him. The Cheetah in his hands seemed small and ineffective against so many officers. They were demanding he lay down his weapon and put his hands up. “Maybe if I come quietly, you can get away…” Dice whimpered hopelessly. He had a feeling Nine wouldn’t like that plan.

[Nine]

ooc~ Maldrid, feel free to jump in whenever you like.

bic~ To say Nine looked tense would be a disgusting understatement. The date Lex had left on the slip of paper seemed burned behind his retinas, and he was ever-aware that the date had come. He kept Dice close to his side all day, and they didn't stay in one place for longer than half an hour. They'd drop into obscure taverns for a drink and run-down eateries for a bite when they needed it. Otherwise, they just kept walking.

The sun had begun to sink below the horizon. The day wasn't over, so Nine's vigil remained, but he couldn't help relaxing just a little when he saw the wall had begun to obscure the fading light.

His hopes that the date had just been a fluke – something to scare them – evaporated the instant they rounded the corner of the Venus Fly's walls. Nine froze just a second – just one second – and that was all it took for the dumbstruck 'Surgs to raise the alarm. Nine stepped in front of Dice to meet a fired dart. He grabbed it by the feathered end and ripped it from his bicep. "I'm fine." He dismissed Dice's concern. He could feel the ED taking effect. Well, might as well take out two 'Surgs before it debilitated his element completely. A spray of blood on both the left and right side of the Insurgi crowd issued like fireworks and two bodies crumpled to the ground. Screams of alarm and a few panicked redcoats transformed and took off in flashes of bright flames. "So busy looking out for Caedo thugs, I didn't think we'd have to worry about a 'Surgi family reunion," Nine growled, pulling his gun from beneath his shirt. He didn't have to get revenge for that ED dart, Dice had taken care of it.

"I've only got twenty bullets," he growled. "And the fucking ED won't let me transform. Shit, I liked 'em better when it took fifty just to disable my element." He'd use his bare hands if he had to. Dice's suggestion earned a snarl and Nine bumped him backward, putting himself between the 'Surgs and Dice. "They won't take you while I'm alive," he spat, raising his gun. Two more uniforms fell. There were other officers inside the club, pushing outside to join the fray. They'd circled like vultures and it only took a moment of shifting on their feet and gunfire for Nine to realize they were being herded into the bar.

Nine recoiled as he was hit with two ED darts and a tranq. He pulled out one at a time and used them as projectiles. He managed to hit a female officer in the eye with one of the darts. One of the Corporals screeched over the hubbub, "DRAC, YOU ARE ABOUT TO BE ARRESTED FOR HARBORING A TRAITOR! IF YOU LET US HAVE ELKYONE YOU MAY GET A FAIR TRIAL!"

Nine's predatory expression broke into a mirthless smile. He knew what they'd do. First they'd tranquilize both of them out of their minds, setting Dice back all the way in his rehab progress, and then they'd take him to get gassed or electrocuted or beheaded or worse. They might give Nine a trial on the basis of this Corporal's word, but the trial would not be fair and he would be likely given the same punishment once a few 'Surgs pegged him as a Fear.

A red aura seemed to surround the both of them, pressing in closer, herding them steadily toward the open door to the club. Soon they were being pushed down the stairs, the Corporal with bright orange hair in the lead, tranq gun trained on Nine's head. Or was it loaded with bullets instead of darts? Nine didn't want to find out. He kept his gun up too, one hand reaching behind him to hold Dice close by the forearm. The only thing that kept his finger still on the trigger was the very real possibility that whatever the Corporal had trained on his forehead was loaded with something lethal.

They were being pushed back toward the dance floor. The Venus Fly was vacant now except for the officers and a few stragglers, hovering behind the booths and peeking out of the bathrooms.

"Hand Eklyone over, drac," the Corporal ordered again, holding out one hand, as though Nine could pick Dice up and place him in her waiting palm. He growled, teeth bared. His eyes flickered around the room in search of an escape route. His gaze suddenly landed on a man standing without a uniform, and a flash of recognition that was Dice's and not his own confirmed the identity. "Lex." His voice was nearly a whisper, gravelly and filled with murderous intent. He'd made the most basic and obvious of assumptions – Lex had orchestrated this. He didn't care how illogical or unlikely it seemed, he couldn't help but make connections when his back was up against a wall.

The bar had gone suddenly silent, the stale mate crackling like static in the air. It made the gunshot that followed all the louder. Nine's eyes widened. He hadn't fired. Who had fired?! He didn't have time to look around. The gunshot was followed by the splintering scream of glass exploding into so many pieces of diamond shrapnel. The floor beneath their feet caved. Nine only had the split second to snare Dice in his arms before letting himself fall. He instinctively tried to transform, but the process was hindered entirely by the ED still running like thick tar in his veins. They fell and landed on the floor beneath, Nine absorbing the shock with his knees and bending as his feet hit the glass. He still clung to Dice, tucking him close to his front. Blood smeared his face in places where the glass had cut. "I need a fucking kangaroo pouch or something for you. You get in way too much trouble and I only have two hands," he said sarcastically, rolling away from the sound of another gunshot. This one was a tranq, and it bounced off the glass floor ineffectively. Nine raised his gun and shot the 'Surg at the edge of the floor above. She tumbled through the opening and hit the glass with a sickening squelch. "Got any brilliant ideas yet?" he asked hopefully. Who'd shot the glass floor? It had saved them some time, and given them a definite advantage. Any 'Surgs hovering near the edge could be picked off just like the last one...

Getting out of here would still be difficult, though.

ooc~ never knew the glass floor would come in so handy ;P I desperately want to see this fight scene animated lol. But hell if I'll be the one to do it *not animating shattering glass ever to save her life NEVER EVER*

[Isabelle]

Izzie tried to shrug off her cousin's concern about the wound. It would have to stop bleeding eventually, it was just a tiny pin prick! "I got it about half an hour ago. Should have healed. It'll stop soon, it's not as bad as before."

She also tried to ignore the subtle look Aras gave at the sight of her company. Izzie didn't know Sally or Maldrid all that well, but her reputation stood on fragile tenders as it were... Being seen fraternizing with humans and draconians wasn't going to get her any promotions.

Aras suddenly shrieked in surprise, her eyes trained on a face in the crowd. Izzie at first assumed it was Dice, and though to turn the other cheek. Instead she whirled around, spotting Lex out of the crowd almost immediately, then promptly turned her head up to stare at the ceiling. "I don't see either of you. I don't know either of you are here. Godammit, I'm not on duty!" She didn't want to arrest anybody today. She wanted to investigate their itty bitty crime with the needle and such, lie low.

It didn't look like either option was readily available. In an explosion of gunfire, a swarm of red uniforms flooded the entrance to the Venus Fly. Izzie swore and grabbed Sally's hand. She felt dead certain that Maldrid could handle himself – he had healing capabilities and a giant's weapon strapped to his back. "Oh dear God," she muttered, dragging Sally to one of the booths. "If someone attacks you, shoot 'em," she said. The booths were the only real shelter, and many of the bar patrons seemed to realize that. The entire building was made of glass. Even the bar provided minimal protection from bullets.

Izzie struggled through the crowd. People screamed, some tripped, most were rushing for emergency exits or the bathrooms. Izzie surged against the flow of panicked shifters until she reached the halo of empty space surrounding the Insurgi. They were encroaching like a savage pack of wolves on two figures. Two figures who weren't going down without a fight.

Reflexively, Izzie grabbed Aras' arm, squeezing it in her shaking fingers. They had an obligation. She'd let Dice get away once, how could she justify doing the same again? The Insurgi were herding Dice and a strange draconian she'd never met into the Venus Fly. Izzie watched, stricken dumb, fumbling for the pistol she kept in her purse. She'd been told to use lethal force on traitors and those harboring traitors. She had a strict order to use whatever means necessary to recapture Dice alive so they could interrogate him first, then execute him. The Corporal bringing up the front of the Insurgi party seemed all too aware of how very dangerous the gun she held was.

Izzie watched Dice and Nine slowly edge their way onto the dance floor, and an idea struck her hard. She didn't have time to think about it. When the drac looked distracted, she cocked her gun and fired at the glass floor. It came apart in a glittering spray, and the phoenix and the draconian at its center vanished, falling to the floor below and landing with a singing echo.

She stowed her gun and pressed forward. She'd been standing too far at the back and felt certain no one had been watching her in particular. She wasn't wearing a uniform today – she might as well have been an innocent on-looker. There was another gunshot and she saw Corporal Nyall fall forward into the abyss opened in the middle of the floor. The sound Nyall made when she hit the glass turned Izzie's stomach. Another officer dead on her account... Was this really worth it? Would Dice extend her this courtesy? She didn't know.

[Lex]

Occ: You guys are awesome. Exciting things happening.

Lex was still thinking about Aras when the first gunshot rang out. He felt his heart pound against his ribcage before his brain registered that something might be terribly wrong. He hated when his body overcame his mind like that. He stood up slowly, giving himself time to clear his head. The shot must have been right outside the open door, but it sounded closer. It was eerie the way the sound echoed inside of the bar, which had been designed to intensify bass. It thump, thump, thumped in an almost musical way, which might have been sort of pretty if Lex had any time to stand around and listen.

The shooting was followed by shuffling as people inside the bar moved insect-like toward the emergency exits. Even as people filed around him, bumped into him, pushed him, Lex stared at the entrance, which had become overtaken by a bright red, as though the bloody world outside had started gushing inward. “What the fuck?” Lex whispered to himself, with emphasis on “fuck.” How had he missed the Insurgi officers at the door? He was certainly glad that they had missed him, but he shouldn’t have let this happen. Redcoats didn’t exactly blend in.

Assignments, missions like these, were the only times Lex ever acted on instinct, let his nerves grab hold of him. It was like a high. When he knew what he was doing, he loved it; he thrived on doing things well. But he took every fumble like a hit to the gut, and this one stung badly. A very personal failure. Insurgi officers surrounded Dice, who stood out, colorless and nearly still within the bloom of red. Dice looked by no means either alone or vulnerable, however. A snarling drac gripped his arm, his voice rumbling above the screeches of a persistent Corporal. His eyes flickered around the room, darting from corner to corner before settling on Lex. Although it was dark, Lex felt as though he was standing in a spotlight, suddenly the center of attention. The draconian’s stare felt hot—Lex was either paranoid, or Dicen had been spreading rumors about him. The drac clearly recognized Lex, and didn’t think highly of him.

He had no time to think about it though. Another shot broke the icy stare as the glass dance floor shattered and both the drac and Dice fell through as if they’d been swallowed up. This was perfect; they were on the ground floor now. He waited only to make sure they were okay—both bloodied but standing—before rushing toward the stairs, unnoticed in the fit that followed the shooting. Edging his way through the crowd, Lex saw Isabelle standing against the wall, looking into the hollow in the floor. She looked nervous, anxiety welling up in her eyes as officer after officer disappeared though the floor or fell to the ground in front of her. Looking straight at Isabelle, Lex almost tripped over a body on the ground. She must have seen him then. He looked up at her and smiled. “Thanks Iz.” He didn’t know whether or not it had been Izzie who had shot the floor, but she was the friendliest face in the audience of Insurgi crowed around the hole, and he had a feeling. Either way, she deserved a thank you for letting him go as he slipped past her and ran down the back stairs.

There was someone waiting at the bottom of the staircase, and Lex was running with too much momentum to stop himself. He ran straight into the figure; it felt like hitting a brick wall.

“Hey Boss.”

“Hank, you idiot.” Lex gripped him by the shoulder, something that involved reaching his arm considerably upwards. “I told you to stay in the carriage and wait for me. To come immediately only when I called. Didn’t you get that?” But is voice betrayed relief. He was glad to see Hank.

“Well, I heard some gun fighting and I thought that maybe that was as good as a call.”

“So then you were waiting on the stairs for me to get shot?” He sighed. “It’s okay. I know you would have come. Now come on.” He pushed Hank toward the door, and together they stepped into the carriage waiting outside. He leaned forward over the front seat, raising his eyebrows. “Well, you have the carriage exactly where I need it.”

Lex muttered to himself. “Dicen’s coming out in a minute, he must be. They’ve done a good job picking off those Surgs.”

Louder now: “All right, listen up. Next guy that comes out of that door—he’d better clarify—next scrawny, bashed up, non-uniformed phoenix clinging to some perpetually pissed-off looking drac that comes through that door (he pointed at the door for emphasis), we’re grabbing him and getting out of this hellhole. I’ll give him one minute." He set the timer on his watch. Exactly one minute. "If he doesn’t come out, we’re going in.”

[Dice]

Dice stood back-to-back with Nine, holding on to a belt loop of the draconian’s pants with one hand and firing his M9 Cheetah relentlessly into the tide of Insurgi with the other. “You usually like my plans,” he commented with frustration as Nine bumped him back. "They won't take you while I'm alive.” “That’s exactly the worst-case scenario I want to avoid!” Insurgi were dropping around them like flies, but twenty bullets simply would not be enough. How many rounds had Scott said was in an M9 clip? He couldn’t remember. As Dice swerved his body to avoid darts and ducked behind his meat-shield, he couldn’t help feeling increasingly concerned that Nine was taking the brunt of the onslaught. He could feel, faintly, each darthead breaking through Nine’s skin. They had to get out of here before Nine was made into a walking pincushion. Or not-so-walking. As Nine retreated backwards away from the advancing officers, Dice found himself tripping over his feet trying to keep pace. “No, stop! They’re pushing us into the bar!”

Escape now seemed problematic at best. Dice dropped to his knees and twisted around to fire between Nine’s legs, hitting a Surg squarely in the chest. He tried to fire again but the canister echoed hollowly. So, clips held 16 rounds, good to know. It was as he fumbled in his pants pocket for another clip that something collided with his shoulder. His breath caught in his throat as he seized the dart by the plumes and tore it out. The drugs flooding through the wound felt like hot wax in his veins. It was not a familiar sensation: ED, not tranq. So much for flying out of here, not that phoenix form would have helped much. He shoved the spare clip into the gun and resumed peppering the living wall of Insurgi with bullets.

The half-soulbond was helping a great deal. Dice could sense, in a general way, the layout of the Insurgi in Nine’s line of sight so that, when he poked his head out from behind Nine, he didn’t have to aim before firing. He could certainly imagine the advantage a full soulbond would grant. Nine’s mirthless thoughts were not lifting his spirits. “What’s ‘worse’ than gassing, electrocution, and beheading, exactly?” he yelled to Nine over the thunder of gunfire, as the Surg he’d shot recoiled, his ear flying in the opposite direction from his head. Maybe they’ll torture me first. They’ll have a bunch of fun with that, when they realize needles and scalpels make me cry like a little girl. The gunfire seemed to be letting up a little. Dart guns couldn’t hold nearly as many rounds as bullet-loaded firearms; maybe the officers were running on empty. Nine’s feet were still shuffling backwards and driving Dice towards the back wall. Maybe they’ll think up a creative execution. Disembowelment. Stoning. Drawing and quartering is a classic, that’d draw a crowd.

He could hear the voice of Corporal Nyall roaring over the hubbub, and craned his neck around Nine’s arm to see what variety of gun she had. It was then that he saw him. He didn’t have to say a word; Nine had recognised him. ”Lex.” Dice’s mind, however, held none of the suspicion of Nine’s. He saw only a familiar, friendly face amid the angry and murderous sea of their adversaries, and he felt a surge of hope. Lex might be their salvation. “Lex! Help me!” he yelled frantically, pleadingly, as he fired one of his last ten bullets. Lex just stared at him. Another shot rang out.

Dice’s abdominal organs flew up to meet his ribcage as the floor disappeared from beneath his feet. The world was swallowed in a blizzard of crystal shards as he fell freely through space. The shards swarmed around him like hornets, stinging his flesh. His instinct was to transform, but the EDs ensured that this resulted only in an uncomfortable lurch in his bones, a non-functional sensation as though he’d tried to start a rope-pull lawnmower engine without fuel. Almost before he could react, Nine had whirled around and curled his body around Dice’s. Dice immediately wrapped his arms over Nine’s bent head and neck to shield him against the glass, and a large sliver of crystal lodged itself in the back of his hand. At least it hadn’t been Nine’s nape.

Nine absorbed the majority of the hard landing; Dice could feel the jolt as his carrier’s legs struck ground. Nine’s skeleton seemed to be built of steel, however, as he proceeded to roll the two of them away from the exposed opening as though nothing had happened. Dice didn’t even have to ask if he was alright; he could feel that Nine’s various wounds were not life-threatening. He could certainly take a beating. He chose to ignore Nine’s kangaroo pouch comment: he’d look completely ridiculous with one of those things, and probably didn’t realize how much mucus was inside one. No way Dice was riding around in that.

He dropped from Nine’s arms and resumed his position hovering at his side, ignoring the glass embedded in his skin. He pointed his gun up at the gaping opening above them. “Where have we fallen to?” Dice gasped, casting his eyes around the room whose ceiling they’d crashed through. It seemed to be a much lower level of dance floor, illuminated from above through their newly-made skylight, the edges tapering into darkness. He was distracted by the loud thud of a body falling to the ground beside him, the phoenix’s skull cracking the glass. It was Corporal Nyall. Dice’s lip twitched. This would be easier if he didn’t know the names and faces of so many of the Insurgi he was killing. He reminded himself that these people were trying to kill. “Nice shot,” he complimented, voice free of remorse.

He glanced up at the opening through which Nyall had tumbled and saw many more faces looking down at them. He couldn’t tell who was wearing a red coat and who wasn’t, but he fired off a few shots all the same, blood flowing over the glass and gushing down into the chasm. He hesitated as he saw Lex again, peering over the lip of the abyss. “Lex, HELP me!” His hope faltered and died as Lex turned on his heel, tracking bloody footprints over the glass floor above, and disappeared. Dice’s disappointment turned to anger. “You…you were right about him,” he growled to Nine, his voice full of poison. His bullet sliced through an officer’s neck, and the man fell into the hole but his uniform became snagged on the shattered edge and his body hung there by the sleeve, swaying gently. He fired again blindly, and realized he should be more careful. He was rapidly running low on bullets, and for every Insurgi that fell another slid forward to fill the void. It was like firing into honey; every time they made a hole, it was quickly filled in.

"Got any brilliant ideas yet?" “Just that we should get very far away from here.” Dice braved another look around at their surroundings. One small advantage of colorblindness was that he saw everything in great contrast, which resulted in excellent night-vision. As a public premises, the club was legally obligated to have an exit from every level. It didn’t take too long for Dice’s eyes to land on the tiny red-lettered sign off in the shadows: ‘Emergency Route Only’. “Come on, we’re getting out of here,” he said, grabbing Nine’s arm and tugging him away from the glass floor. Darts pinged ineffectively off the ground at their heels as they ran. As Dice approached the emergency door he hesitated an instant. What if the Surgs are waiting for us on the other side? This seemed like a firm case of ‘damned if you do, damned if you don’t’, seeing as it would only be a matter of time before the officers upstairs found a way down to them. He pushed down on the door bar with his shoulder and shoved through.

They emerged in a secluded alleyway, dropped down a story below the street level of the club’s entrance. There wasn’t a person in sight, barely a feature above the cobblestones save for a few dumpsters against the wall and a parked black carriage down the lane. Everything was quiet, save for the distant sounds of chaos from the upper street. He felt a wave of relief. He turned to look at Nine’s flushed and bloody face. “We are damn lucky bastards,” he observed, before grabbing Nine’s hand and sprinting up the street.

As he passed the carriage, the door snapped open and several sets of strong hands grabbed him by the shoulder and chest, pulling him backwards. “NINE!” He was being yanked through the carriage door into the dark buggy, only Nine’s grip keeping his torso from disappearing within. He heard a familiar voice behind him command ”Drive!, and the crack of a whip. What proceeded was a sort of tug-of-war between the horse and Nine, as the poor animal strained ineffectively to haul the carriage forward against the dragon’s grip.

Dice could hear the cocking of guns over his shoulder. Nine was holding them up, and if he didn’t let go, they were going to shoot him. Dice’s blood ran cold. He knew that voice which had given the order to drive. “Okay, Lex, okay, I’ll come! But he’s coming too.” He stared at Nine meaningfully. Trust me here. The draconian hesitated before allowing Dice – with the aid of several Caedo thugs – to haul him through the opening. The door was pulled closed behind him sharply, and the horse and carriage careened down the street and away.


Ooc: I’m waiting on Sally before posting Aras.

[Nine]

Nine swallowed the acidic burn in his throat. Hearing Dice call for help -- and knowing he wasn't in the best position to acquiesce, was one thing. Worse was watching Lex turn tail and ignore the plea.

He growled low, stepping close to Dice and pressing against his back. "I'm sorry," he said, and he meant it. In this situation, he wished he hadn't been right about Lex. It would have been much more convenient, much less painful, if he'd been on their side.

He didn't have much time to think about it. More officers encroached on the fringe of the gap and more fell to their gruesome demise. Nine couldn't imagine the cost of damages to the club owners. Dice didn't intend to wait so the 'Surgs could bill them legal fees. He dragged Nine toward the glowing exit sign. Nine followed closely, stowing his gun away.

The fresh air hit him like the splash of water after a two hour sprint. He drank in the breeze and continued to hurtle down the streets with Dice at his side. His relief was short-lived; not a minute after escaping their glass prison and they were back in mortal peril. Two pairs of arms snatched Dice up by the fabric of his shirt, tugging him into a darkly painted carriage. Nine skidded to a halt, grabbing Dice's hands and pulling back. "Oh, fuck off," he swore, warring with the figures in the carriage. A whip cracked and the horses at the forefront of the carriage snorted before taking off at a bouncing trot. The carriage bounced over the cobblestone roads and Nine ran along-side, trying to yank Dice back into his arms. He caught sight of one passenger's face - Lex. He grit his teeth. "You have a death wish, you sick fuck?" His keen ears caught the sound of metallic clicks - the cocking of a hammer on two pistols. Unlike the 'Surgs, Nine couldn't anticipate whether or not these were loaded with tranqs, EDs or bullets. He severely doubted the Caedo stocked tranqs and EDs as much as the last option.

“Okay, Lex, okay, I’ll come! But he’s coming too.” Nine gave Dice a pained, perplexed look, but he read the expression in Dice's eyes and nodded. He launched himself into the moving carriage, slamming the door behind them. He didn't let go of Dice's hands, and once seated opposite their assailants, he immediately kicked their offending arms away. He wound both arms around Dice, across his chest, protecting his heart, while also serving as a murderous seat belt.

"Everything alright back there? the chauffeur asked. Hank grunted. Nine recognized the chauffeur's voice, distantly, but he couldn't pay it much mind when there were two guns presently locked on Dice. He didn't think they'd shoot him, not when Lex had the perfect opportunity a few minutes ago.

"Talk," he barked, eyes blazing with burning ire. The only reason he hadn't pulled out his gun to shoot them both between the eyes was because this was Lex, and he didn't know if Dice's limitations applied still or not.

[Sally]

ooc~ O_O sorry for holding some of you up, exams are draining my energy...here you go!

bic~

Usually, when a fight broke out in an unfamiliar place, Sally knew better than to hang around and risk getting herself injured. The cause wasn't important, she hadn't lived this long by being overly curious. She'd gripped her shotgun and pressed her back to the wall, eyes darting everywhere, waiting for a clear escape route. But that was when she'd caught a glimpse of the two men being surrounded.

"Nine?" she mouthed silently, her shock unnoticed due to the chaos, "Ah, shit."

She was mildly surprised and a bit touched when a panicked Isabelle grabbed her and led her to the safety of a booth.

"Don't ye worry about me, darlin'" she yelled over the mayhem, not bothering to point out that it was common sense to shoot someone if you were being attacked. She'd been through worse situations over the years, and she was lucky to be in remarkably good shape for her age. God help whoever tried to target her.

She loaded her gun stiffly and watched the scene play out. To say she was stupefied was an understatement. She'd thought Nine was smarter than that, getting himself surrounded by a horde of officers... But it had to be for something important if he was risking so much. She wasn't familiar with his partner, though. Then again, it wasn't like Nine just dropped by the Cafe every once and a while to say hello, talk about the weather and treat his friends to freshly baked muffins.

But she was rather fond of him, she had to admit. He'd helped her get rid of that rich, insufferable Insurgi scumbag that had condemned her son to the Blood Farms. For that she would always be grateful. But Sally was certainly not going to go out of her way to reveal her true colours in front of a ton of witnesses and officers.

However, one Insurgi officer was a particularly good shot and was getting dangerously close to the two. Acting as though she was trying to find a safer place than the booth, she slid off the seat and made to go past the Insurgi. Predictably, when she'd run too close to him he'd shoved past her, elbowing her hard in the ribs. Sally had been counting on that, and she spun around angrily and bashed the side of his head with the back of her gun, knocking him off balance and into the booth.

"Mind yer manners, young man!" she barked and hurried away before he'd regained composure. She grinned despite herself, wondering if the officer had actually been older than her.

She ducked behind a split wall and scanned the room until she saw Isabelle. The phoenix had her gun out. Sally cursed and prayed that the girl was the worst shot in the Insugi. Surprisingly, the phoenix aimed low and shot the glass floor, causing it to shatter. Sally blinked and watched the insanity reach new heights as Nine and his comrade made their escape.

Soon all of the Insurgi were out of the club, leaving but a few people staring around at the disaster and wondering what the hell had happened. Isabelle was staring down at the hole she had made, and she certainly didn't look pleased with herself. Had it been an accident then?

As Sally approached her and surveyed the mess, she couldn't help but glance at Isabelle's expression with interest. It might have been an accident but...no one who was that bad a shot could get into law enforcement. She caught the phoenix's eye and pursed her lips, her expression stern and a bit confused.

She wasn't about to ask when there might still be officers around, though. Not to mention Isabelle's cousin was still here, and she may or may not have seen the act.

She flexed her fingers against her gun. At least she hadn't been forced to use it.

[Aras]

Aras frowned at Isabelle’s dismissal of the wound. “Well sure, it’s not going to kill you, but I’d like to know who’s going around putting needles in doorhandles. It could be poison next time instead of…anticoagulant, or whatever this is.” She shrugged one shoulder. She was no doctor, she was just a research scientist, and an Insurgi concerned for the safety of the citizens of Siras.

As chaos broke out, she quickly found herself swallowed by a tide of rushing, panic-stricken bodies pushing around her on all sides. She lost track of Isabelle, Sally, and Lex quickly amid the crowd, and began jostling against the current towards the Insurgi patrol. She stood on her tip-toes in an effort to see past the ring of officers, but there were too many in the way. All she could gather was from the bellows of Corporal Nyall: Hand over Elkyone.

“God damn it, D!” Aras swore, fighting her way back through the crowd, trying to locate Isabelle. She found her and Sally taking shelter in one of the booths. Aras looked near madness with fear. “Izzie, they’ve got Dicen, they’re going to arrest him or kill him or I don’t know!” she shrieked, her voice breaking. Isabelle grabbed her, firmly, by the arm. Aras was forced to calm herself to translate what Isabelle was trying to communicate. It was their duty to aid the cause of the Insurgi, their duty to bring traitors to justice. But this wasn’t just some traitor, it was her brother! Why couldn’t he have stayed in that cage, where it was safe, where she could keep an eye on him? Just the same, Izzie was right. “So…what do we do?” Aras asked, defeated, her eyes glancing to Sally. Sally seemed to be staring at her brother and the draconian with a similar sort of concern – did she recognise him? Or was Sally just the sort of person who was compassionate towards strangers in a tight fix?

Isabelle raised her gun. Aras reflexively backed away a step. “No, wait, what are you-?” She instantly understood as she pressed forward to witness the glass floor shattering to engulf her brother – and some draconian – into the earth. That drac…somehow, Aras was quite sure he was the man she’d spoken to on the phone before Dice’s mobile had abruptly gone out of commission. She ran to the edge of the pit and peered down to see them regaining their feet. Oh thank god. “You’re pretty smart, cousin Iz,” she smiled warmly over her shoulder. None of the others seemed to recognize where that fateful bullet had originated.

There were only so many crimes she could forgive Dicen for, and each murder brought her closer to the brink, but still she stared anxiously over the crater’s lip in hopes of seeing Dicen making a clean get-away. In that moment, the bullet struck Corporal Nyall. Aras screamed as a spurt of blood hit her bare legs and splashed over Sally’s shoes. Aras felt anger boil inside her. She had to stop thinking of this petty, disgusting criminal as her brother.

She noticed, from the edge of her eye, Lex making a dash for the stairs. Wordlessly, she gestured to Isabelle and Sally to follow and trailed the hybrid to the stairwell. She hovered by the doorway, peering in to see Lex’s back and a gigantic, muscular vampire looming over him. She caught the tail end of their conversation. “Carriage?” she hissed to the other two women. A few moments later, echoing up the stairwell, she heard Dice’s voice screaming in fear. She followed at a sprint and emerged into the alleyway just in time to see Nine’s heels disappear into the carriage before it careened away from them. “Shit! Now what?” She fished around in her pocket for a dart and shoved it into her gun barrel. The fired dart sunk into the wooden back of the carriage ineffectively. Aras grit her teeth in helpless frustration. “We need horses or something.”

[Lex]

29, 28, 27, 26...finally, Lex saw Dice run out into the alleyway. He stopped his watch. “Grab him, now! Go, go go!” As soon as the carriage started moving, Lex leaned back in his seat, his head slouching backwards to face the ceiling. Breathing came more easily with every inch they moved away from the Insurgi. He edged toward the lip of the carriage where Hank sat, struggling longer than Lex had expected. Dice was still hanging out of the carriage, being pulled away as though he were being dragged down by a majestic anchor. One of the Surgs must have grabbed hold of him. Lex panicked. Shaking his head as if to dislodge all of his misgivings, he twisted the barrel of his pistol between his thumb and forefinger.

The vampires were more straightforward. They had been trained to shoot, and they cocked their guns, waiting for an order. Lex didn’t know how patient they would remain. He bit his lip, and they licked theirs hungrily. “Okay, Lex, okay, I’ll come! But he’s coming too.” Lex leaned further, almost spread across Hank’s lap, and grabbed Dice’s wrist. Ahhh, it was that drac, he saw now. He should have guessed. Even with the help of Hank, it took all of Lex’s weight to pull Dice and the draconian fully into the carriage, and when the draconian yanked Dice back toward himself, Lex staggered. But a smile broke out across his face, and he nodded his head and held out his hand. He put on his best formal voice. “Dr. Dicen Elkyone, fancy meeting you here!” But Dice wasn’t amused. Not even a trace of a smile. He was scared.

Lex resumed chewing on his lip, betraying his nervousness. He could control himself if he wanted to, but he let himself lose composure, let himself look vulnerable. He didn’t want Dice to think that he was the only one feeling bad, that he was the only one risking something. He had made Dice angry before. They were best friends, but they fought all the time. But he had never scared him. The drac squeezed Dice tighter and stared at Lex possessively. It reminded Lex of a cobra guarding its prey. He imagined that if he did that to him, it would crack a couple of ribs at least. He hoped Dice was okay.

Each second that went by in silence seemed to make the draconian even more uneasy, until he demanded that they talk. Lex looked at Dice apologetically. “I’m so, so sorry D. I’ll explain. I work for the Caedo now,” he confessed. He would have to tell Dice some things. The truth was all that he could offer to make Dice trust him again. The way he was looking at him now made Lex understand that he no longer did. “They’re safe.” He hoped that Dice understood, that maybe he could pick up a bit of what Lex was thinking, remember what he had told him during their last meeting. He couldn’t repeat what he had said earlier, what he had gone through after the Resistance fell apart, not with this draconian staring him down. It was too personal. “When a phoenix escapes from Elkyone labs, secret though they may be, well, it gets around. I found out that you were alive—I couldn’t have known, you know—and I decided it was past time to come for you.”

For a long time Lex had considered himself the one in need of rescuing. He was so weak. He had assumed that Dice had gotten away. He admired Dice—he was strong, kicking his tranq habit. Even with, ahem, persuasion, it took a lot to be able to let go of something that held you so tightly. He had surely escaped. When he’d had no word from him, he felt abandoned. He hated to admit it, but it wasn’t until later that he finally considered that Dice may have been captured, that he may have been dead. Why hadn’t he have thought of this before? It sickened him that he pitied himself so much that he hadn’t thought that Dice might need help. He should have gone looking for Dicen again, but by this time, it was too late. The thought ate through him like a tape worm, gnawing at his gut. He’d have to forget about it.

“So," he continued. "I used my resources, and that’s what I did. It was a lucky break actually. I was on assignment to find you. I told you this, but you don’t remember any of it. I gave you a drug that erases memories as they’re being formed. Pretty cool, huh? What is does is..." He stopped. Better not to reveal too much. He had some of this drug with him now, but he didn't showcase it out of fear that they might decide to use it against him. "Then I let you out of the carriage (a white lie--he hoped Dice didn’t remember this part) and you were free to go. We agreed to meet again, and I gave you a piece of paper with this date on it. I thought you might know that it was me, but, well, I inserted a tracking device anyways.” He fumbled in his jacket’s inner pocket and pulled out the navigator, handing it over to Dice. “There you are.”

Turning back to Dice’s companion, in a harder tone, he asked “Now who are you?” His eyes flashed angrily. Softness wouldn’t work on this one. He would probably assume that it was fake, and wouldn’t have been wrong. While he sincerely felt for Dice, this guy hadn’t even given him a chance, and he resented that.

[Dice]

Dice gasped, as though he’d been submerged in icy water, as Lex grabbed his wrist. His bare, pockmarked skin brushed against Lex’s narrow rope bracelet. He was forcefully reminded of that precise same sensation as, decades ago, Lex had struggled to pull him free of debris which had fallen in the wake of one of their chemical bombs. At that time it had been a gesture of trust and camaraderie, a rescue. Now the clutch of the disjointed fingers was unfriendly and unwelcome.

With Nine clinging to his hand and pulling in the other direction, Dice felt his wrist might snap. The look on his lover’s face clearly stated that Nine did not concur that getting into the unfamiliar carriage was the best plan, but he launched himself through the door all the same. The guns trained on him were lowered. Oh thank god. Well, Nine had been saved from the bullets, but what sort of new danger Dice had gotten him into was anyone’s guess. He tried to gauge the possibility of escape. His gun and Nine’s – both nearly out of bullets – against those of the four Caedo. And both of them full of enough ED to prevent transformation, as well as the functionality of Nine’s element. Not good.

Nine never let go for a moment, his hands locked around Dice’s and his eyes locked on Lex. Dice was pulled into a suffocating sort of modified bear-hug, crushed against the safety of Nine’s chest. His hand still clung to Nine’s wrist. Under his fingers he could feel the jagged edge of a piece of broken glass. You’re hurt, he observed miserably. There wasn’t much he could do about it in this bumpy carriage facing several unappreciative Caedo thugs. He ignored his misgivings – he was medically-minded first and foremost. He gently wiggled the protruding glass. The shard slid out easily, the narrower portion having entered Nine’s arm. Dice dropped it on the floor and pressed his thumb against the cut to stem the bleeding until he could find something better. He was chilled by the way their abductors seemed to be watching these proceedings with such cool indifference. He’d acknowledge them when he was good and ready and satisfied that Nine wasn’t in any immediate danger. And when he could think of something to say to Lex that wasn’t just an incoherent train of profanities.

Lex got to it first. “Dr. Dicen Elkyone, fancy meeting you here!” Dice finally deigned to look at him. He had hoped to do so with a look of venom, but he felt that only his fear was visible. “Alexei Vos-Pallida…What the fuck is wrong with you?” he demanded, his chest still heaving with terror and physical exertion. “Stop smiling like an idiot, this is the second time you’ve abducted me with no explanation and I’m not as happy to see you as you seem to imagine.” Nine put it far more succinctly: ”Talk.” Neither of them seemed to recognise that they were in no position to make demands. Dice crossed his arms over Nine’s and stared Lex down, impatiently waiting.

“You work for the Caedo now, huh? I had guessed that when a heap of vampire muscle dragged me off to chat with their ‘employer’,” Dice seethed. Hank grunted, evidently offended by this description. If Dice recognised what Lex meant by ‘they’re safe’, he said nothing to acknowledge it. The fate of The Resistance was not foremost on his mind. “Your note was really helpful, too. Spent the last two weeks waiting for the day the Caedo would burn my house down or come to collect my fingers or shoot my dog.” Hank seemed not to be appreciating where the conversation was going, judging by the way he fingered his shotgun and kept the barrel always pointing vaguely in the direction of their ‘prisoners’. Dice was too irate to pay it much heed.

“I found out that you were alive—I couldn’t have known, you know—and I decided it was past time to come for you.” Dice gaped for a moment, stricken dumb. At last, he choked out, “That’s it? That’s your explanation for why you never came to rescue me, never even looked for me? And now it’s ‘past time’? I should think its god damn past time!”

Hank raised an eyebrow over his sunglasses and glanced at Lex. “You two have some kinda personal history?” he inquired, clearly at a loss.

Dice was shaking his head incredulously. What was the point of all this? It was an awfully strange way to arrange a reunion, if that was really all Lex was after. Now that Dice no longer required rescuing – or, rather, Lex was the party that he needed rescuing from – he had trouble imagining Lex was speaking the truth. “Assignment? What assignment? What does the Caedo want from me? How’d they know to send you?” he asked, frightened by the prospect of getting involved in yet another syndicate. His anger was ebbing into fear. At least Lex was trying – however ineffectively – to give him some answers. Maybe his rage was misdirected; there might be bigger players in the mix here. “There’s one thing I do remember from that day, and it’s that you didn’t ‘let’ me out of that carriage, you shoved me out the moving door! Why did you need to erase my memory? I don’t understand. What did we talk about, that day your men grabbed me at the markets?” He clung uncertainly to Nine’s arms until his knuckles were white.

He slowly glanced down to the crook of his elbow. The mark had healed over a long time ago, but the skin still bulged almost imperceptibly where the capsule rested beneath his skin. A tracking device had not been on his and Nine’s list of theories. “I thought maybe, knowing you, it was some kind of subepidermal explosive.” He couldn’t help a nervous little grin. There was a time when he and Lex would have thought the idea was a brilliant one and would have spent hours in a dark room, fiddling with tiny mechanisms, trying to perfect it. He took the tracking screen Lex handed him with pale fingers. “So you’ve known exactly where I’ve been for the past two weeks?” he asked quietly. With sudden violence, he flung the device to the floor and stamped on it with his heel until it was no more than a smashed husk, just as he’d done to his cell phone. He once again debated digging the capsule out of his arm with his fingernails, but his stomach rolled at the idea.

“Listen, I’m going to need more than that show of good faith. What do you want with me, where are you taking us, why’d you catch me once and then let me go again, and…why, Lex, why didn’t you ever try to rescue me?” The tension was broken by the loud sound of splintering wood as a dart struck the back of the carriage, its barb protruding through wall and quivering there. Dice jumped in Nine’s arms, alarmed. “Shit, the Insurgi are still after us?” Lex and his goons seemed unconcerned. Actually, Lex seemed far more interested in Nine’s identity. “Does it matter? None of your goddamn business,” Dice snarled, clinging to Nine possessively as though the Caedo might try to separate them. Given that Lex knew Dice’s sexual preferences, it was probably blatantly obvious by now just who he was. This drac wasn’t just Dice’s bodyguard, that much was clear.