Sergio Dashkov's Story

Sergio

When he left, it was still dark. Avantia was quiet, and the street lamps lit the streets in gold. The sky was now bluish-white where the sun was gradually creeping over the roofs of the skyscrapers. Cars began to populate the street and businesses began to open.

Sergio had taken his morning, 5-mile jog. Every morning he would jog down different streets to better acquaint himself with the roads, the stores, the apartments—everything in the city. The grocery store was where he decided to go after his run. A list was neatly folded in his pocket, and he had removed it as he walked the aisles picking up the odd products and foods requested by his…prison roommates.

Six, white plastic bags were on the floor between his feet, in his lap, and looped about his arms as he rode the bus back to his side of town. A black hood, belonging to a solid-black hoodie was drawn up over his head. His dark-brown hair was pulled back behind a pine-green bandana as he rested his head against the glass of the window. He watched as cars and people whisked by and felt the rocking of the bus.

The headphones of his mp3 were in his ears, blasting one of the various rock songs he had on his playlist. It took his mind off the length of the trip that was quickly travelled and shorter in duration than his jog. It wasn’t long before he gathered the bags and descended the steps into the slums. Not many dismounted on this side of town for no one dared to live in the neighborhood of thieves, drug dealers, and murderers. “Murderers” was at least accurate.

Sergio always detoured rather than walked straight to the warehouse. To anyone that could have been watching him, a person entering a supposedly abandoned warehouse was suspicious and could attract unwanted attention. Of course it was attention they easily could handle, but it was still unwanted. He cut down an alley and entered through a broken board in the fence that had a sign that read: PRIVATE PROPERTY NO TRESSPASSING. Turning sideways, he stepped through and shook the bags until they slipped through without tearing—thank goodness.

With three bags hanging from his forearms, Sergio crossed the lot to the front door where he noticed Sasha standing outside having a cigarette. He called her Sasha rather than Splinter, being partial to its Russian origin. His bronze eyes lingered on the fag between her lips, the gleaming cherry, and the soft drags she was taking from it. It made the Russian more hungry for a cigarette than for breakfast. The whispers of his headphones may have told her that he wouldn’t hear a greeting even if she offered one. He instead had greeted her with his eyes before they motioned to the door and how it seemed to open on its own to spew Goldilocks (Terelle).

Sergio pivoted out of her way, the bags hissing and swaying to his fluid movement before he stepped toward the door, catching it with his foot. Kicking it open, he entered the warehouse to find the starving mongrels already swarming the kill. Frowning softly, Sergio walked over to the makeshift dining room table. It had been a rickety thing he had managed to pull from a dumpster. It wobbled, but it would never collapse. The tabletop was also smooth. He set the bags that held the requested contents on the table, and took the bags he would be stocking the fridge with into the crowded kitchen.

His mp3 was still going as he set the bags on the counter and bent over to open a lower cabinet to remove a pan. Setting the pan on the stove, Sergio became still, his eyes not straying to anyone as they remained focus on the wall before him. He threatened on a low and mild-mannered voice, “Get out before I kill you all.”

There was sweat in his pits, on his face, and in other unmentionable places that had him in a foul mood. He normally would have preferred to shower before he started cooking for the beasts, but seeing how they wanted to devour what remained of the kitchen stock, he had to feed them quick.

Alex felt his body start to quiver when he felt someone was behind him. He knew it was Terelle but truly didn't care. Feeling her hand touch the back of his neck he growled at the touch of heat. He stood up and knocked her hand away from him. Alex backed away from her until his back was against the wall. "Here to tame me huh? Want to soothe my pain? I don't want your help or for you to be here so leave!" He started to claw again at the wall behind him as if he was trying to make some great escape. "Just get out of here!" His eyes scanned the room looking for a way to get away from her. His eyes rolled over onto a window and he knew it was his shot. Not saying anything else he made a dash for the window and dove out. Good thing he was only on the second story otherwise it would have been disastrous. He landed on his knees once he hit the ground. He looked back up at the broken window and started to walk away. He didn't get too far before he started to feel himself calm down a bit. Whatever Terelle did it was working.

Alex stopped in his tracks and started laughing a normal person's laugh. "Wow was I about to kill some people!" He started chuckling not caring he already killed a girl. Who was she to him? Nobody that's who. "Hey Terelle let's go already." The thing about Alex was, whenever he flips out when he turns back to normal he acts like nothing ever happened to him in the first place. "Come on woman I'm ready to go home!" Alex started walking in the direction of the warehouse figuring she would be behind him anyways. He started whistling some random tune seeing as he wanted to keep himself entertained on the walk home. It hit him that most people in the warehouse either hated, thought he was childish, or stayed around to see what his next antic was. "I should tell the organization where we are. That will teach all them not to underestimate my intelligence." The thought of seeing everyone taken away by the organization was tantalizing to him.

He just wants to see them suffer by either his hands or someone else. "Oh well maybe another time." He started walking with his hands resting behind his head when he saw the warehouse. "Terelle if you're back there then I don't want you telling everyone I had a freak out. I don't feel like getting reprimanded today." Opening the door to the house, he tossed his arms up into the air seeing everyone was assembled in the kitchen. "What's up bitches? How is my favorite group of psycho killers?" He leaned against the kitchen wall staring at everyone with a confident smirk. "Terelle just had to come get me because she couldn't stand being away from her most favorite person in the world, which of course is me." His nose twitched a little at the smell of food in the room and he knew he was cooking without looking. "How is my favorite person today Sergio?" He leaned on his shoulder giving him a smile.

Marx

When the blonde grabbed his attention, Seb's head snapped to one side, towards her. He tucked his marbled into his shirt. The book made a small lump against the interior pocket, one he stitched in himself. Finger exercises always came in handy. He blinked at her and a small smile twitched his lips, lingering for a few seconds. He lied easily. "I slept well, thank you Vi." his smile grew a bit, partly forced. "I haven't eaten yet though." As they spoke Seb found himself strolling back into the kitchen, inexorably drawn to the prospect of food. He hadn't even contemplated eating."How'd you sleep?" He reciprocated the question politely.

Upon re-entering the kitchen, Marx watched the little wraith of a girl enter. Marlen. Emilia. She was pretty, perhaps beautiful, but Seb's eyes flicked away just as soon as they landed on her. No, he didn't want to think about her right now. She irritated him. It wasn't necessarily what she did, but who she was, really. She defied the laws of physics. It was unnatural. She was kind when she should be violent, giving when she should be selfish. It wasn't the way things worked. Perhaps she was just an ever-present reminder that their pasts weren't any excuse for the way they were acting. Or maybe he just didn't like her. That was a valid option. Totally. Uh-huh. Yeah.

When Emilia began walking in his direction, Marx lifted an eyebrow slightly, looking at a point a few degrees above her head. What did she want? His amber eyes flicked down to her grey ones. She spoke, but he didn't hear her. His eyes had already seized upon the journal. A leather one, with gilded words. An honest to groundwater journal. A flash of paranoia jolted him though. How did she know that he was almost finished with his other one? Had she been reading his journals? He'd have to hide them again.

Paranoia and dislike aside, Seb wasn't one to pass up a gift. Not one this good. His delicate looking fingers gently took the book, and he flashed a smile at her, his jaw tilting back a bit. "Thanks, sweetheart." He said in his silk clad voice. The smile flashed out of existence as soon as it had appeared though, and Marx's head dipped as he examined his newest acquisition. He dropped into another world as he began to test his new possession. It was flexible, and it smelled deliciously like book. Glue and paper. Mmm.

Many more entered the kitchen. Marx ignored them all. He was utterly engrossed with his new toy. He was drawn out of his state by Dashkov. Sergio. He beat the others to the bags and began rooting around in them. He managed to procure what he was looking for. A box about the size of his palm. More ink for his pen. Yes. He escaped with his loot without thanking Dashkov, the male seemed to be in a right foul mood, casting a look back at Vi as he stuffed his box into the pocket of his pants.

This was turning out to be a good morning.

Marx settled in one of the extraneous rooms in the front of the building, Curling himself into a box that he'd cleared out, the male opened his old notebook and continued writing, intent on finishing the last page. He began by writing about Marlen. He was working out how grateful he should appear, and how long he should wait before drifting back to avoiding her. Eating could wait.

Splinter

A small ring of smoke escaped her lips, leaving behind a fog for her vision. When it cleared, Sergio was making his way up to the door with groceries from the store he worked at, she noticed him eyeing her cigarette. She knew he smoked as well, or at least he had at the bar. Noticing the head phones as well, she didn't bother saying anything, neither did he. But the look was enough, and when he made his way inside, Sasha finished up her smoke and put it out in the wall behind her, letting the butt drop in the grass below. Yeah, it was littering, but the place was such a dump already. What would one butt matter? Fanning her hand in front of her face, she tried to get a bit of the cigarette stink off of her before moving back inside. Once in, she found the nearest bathroom and washed her hands and rinsed out her mouth. It didn't fix the smell, but it diluted it down to a dull fragrance. Which to her, was good enough. After all, there was no real way to rid herself of the smell completely.

Turning out of the bathroom, she then made for the kitchen. Groceries meant one thing, Sergio was going to be cooking soon. Sasha always felt bad simply watching Sergio cook, or even eating what he did make, it was as if she were mooching off of what he did. Her money didn't bring the food in, it went towards light and water. His went into the food, and his effort into making it. In all rights, it was his. What right was hers to take it? In this way, she always made at least an offer to help him with it, even though sometimes he preferred to just be alone when he cooked, as if it were a sort of 'me time' for him. Nevertheless, she offered. As she was about to now.
A small ring of smoke escaped her lips, leaving behind a fog for her vision. When it cleared, Sergio was making his way up to the door with groceries from the store he worked at, she noticed him eyeing her cigarette. She knew he smoked as well, or at least he had at the bar. Noticing the head phones as well, she didn't bother saying anything, neither did he. But the look was enough, and when he made his way inside, Sasha finished up her smoke and put it out in the wall behind her, letting the butt drop in the grass below. Yeah, it was littering, but the place was such a dump already. What would one butt matter? Fanning her hand in front of her face, she tried to get a bit of the cigarette stink off of her before moving back inside. Once in, she found the nearest bathroom and washed her hands and rinsed out her mouth. It didn't fix the smell, but it diluted it down to a dull fragrance. Which to her, was good enough. After all, there was no real way to rid herself of the smell completely.

Turning out of the bathroom, she then made for the kitchen. Groceries meant one thing, Sergio was going to be cooking soon. Sasha always felt bad simply watching Sergio cook, or even eating what he did make, it was as if she were mooching off of what he did. Her money didn't bring the food in, it went towards light and water. His went into the food, and his effort into making it. In all rights, it was his. What right was hers to take it? In this way, she always made at least an offer to help him with it, even though sometimes he preferred to just be alone when he cooked, as if it were a sort of 'me time' for him. Nevertheless, she offered. As she was about to now.

Re-passing the front door, she saw Marx sitting in one of the front rooms writing, looking more chipper than normal. Which for Marx, still wasn’t very chipper. She pushed the door open a little more, enough to peak her head in. Letting out a little cough to let him know she was there before all out talking, she gave him a chance to cover whatever he didn’t want seen before she got too close. Whatever he was writing, she was sure it wasn’t her business.
”Hey Marx? Breakfast should be ready soon. I mean, you can keep doing whatever you want, but Im just warning you there might not be anything left if you wait too long.” she let out a small laugh and shook her long, black hair with one hand. She noticed the imprint under his eyes, the ones people always get when you don’t sleep well. She felt something with it, she wasn’t sure what. Not sorry for him, probably not even quite concerned, but it was still something. After everything they had all gone through together, it was hard to be completely cold hearted to everyone as some of the people tried to be.
She caught herself starring, she had zoned out a bit looking at the imprints under his eyes. It had only been seconds, but she still felt as if she had overstepped her welcome on his private time and hastily added a
”Just letting you know, Ill save you a plate.” and quietly closed the door behind her, not giving him a chance to reply. She didn’t think he would, anyway.

Heading back towards the kitchen, she peaked in to see that this was the central hub where everyone had been hiding. Sergio was indeed trying to make breakfast, Alex was near him trying to talk to him, Ren, Emilia, Luka, Lindsey, Arden were all there as well. Busy kitchen.
”Need a hand, Sergio? I feel like with so many people to feed, it’s not fair to make you buy it all and then turn right around and cook it all.”
She laughed, flashing a smile his way denoting that she did, really, want to help.
”And just in case you were worried, I did try my best to wash the filth off my hands already.”
Another small laugh, then a turn to Arden.
“And good morning, Sunshine, how are we?”

Emilia Rae Marlen

She watched Marx and smiled as he thanked her for the journal, he even seemed to smile himself if even for what seemed like less than a second. The gift seemed well received, she then left him to himself, hearing some of the others enter the room, one of them being Sergio with what seemed to be like food. Apparently, he had picked up what some of them requested from the grocery store - had she missed the moment this happened? She stood still as stone for a moment, her eyes glossy. Guilt washed upon her again, what she had taken would not even be of use. She wondered why no one took her reqursts, but no, it was okay, as long as Devan got what he needed. However, his taste in food was never really...food to begin with. "Good morning Sergio." she said softly, with just a hint of embarrassment. She felt quite stupid, not just stupid, she was tired, so tired. Emilia started walking shakily towards the table, Sergio seemed to have the fresh groceries that needed to be in the fridge - but she did find a mountain of candies. "Oh my." she said under her breath. She picked them up, making sure to hide them for a time, Devan wasn't going to live off of sugar.

When she took another look at Sergio, she realized how horrible he looked. Just as she was about to offer to help, Splinter had beat her to it. She was glad however, that someone had offered a helping hand. Emilia despite Sergio demanding everyone leave the room, was still determined to offer her help. "Is there anything that I can help with?" she asked, almost on her tiptoes. Emilia yawned, "How are you Splinter?" She asked, then getting a whiff of the cigarette smell coming off of her. "You know, that isn't good for you, you should stop." she was genuinely concerned about her health, and thought it would deteriorate if she continued, this went for Sergio as well. "Perhaps...we can try and help you somehow?" As the kitchen was then filled with more rustle and bustle, Emilia thought of Devan. "Call me if you need me okay?" she said, turning to get Devan's things on the table and walking down the hall. She first walked into her room, frowning at the mess which still lay there, and hid the candies within her pillow case. If she stressed anything, it was his health and well being. She kicked some of the cans of food under her bed, adding a few ows and ouches here and there, and then headed towards Devan's room.

Peaking inside, she slowly opened the door, and then closed it quietly. She made her way towards the edge of his bed and sat down upon it, "Goodmorning sunshine, time to get up." her voice was so soft, it might have been unable to be heard by most sleeping people. As she looked down at him, she noticed he had started to look blurry - everything started to look blurry. "Breakfast is on its way I believe." she continued. "I also think you requested some things, I'll give them to you after breakfast." Her eyes felt so heavy, it was like there were weights on them. She thought about how everyone gathered around the food Sergio bought, and how Splinter offered to help him. Her eyes started watering a little bit, she still couldn't get over what she did - she wished she could have been acknowledged..no she shouldn't have been. What she did was wrong, while he had used his money for actual groceries. She had to be sure and thank him when he was done cooking, this also reminded her that she wanted to help. She would make sure to help clean up best she could, he looked so worn out already. Her watery eyes then turned into tears. She wanted to help everyone, all the time. Why couldn't she? "Would you like...me to get you...to get you..." Emilia stood up, or tried to. Immediately she blacked out.

Sergio had sprayed oil in the pan and was making an assortment of eggs. Most of the assassins and tamers had left the kitchen, but ones like Alex remained. He saw the boy without looking at him and felt him leaning against his shoulder. He hadn’t heard his greeting because the headphones were still in his ears, but he was certain that what he said hadn’t been important. He reached his hand up to grab his black hood and pulled it down. That same hand then slipped inside his pants pocket to grab out a pack of cigarettes. He popped open the box with his thumb and raised it to his lips as he bit down on a stick and drew it out. Closing the box, he returned it to his pocket and then removed the unlit cig from his lips. He pressed it to the hot burner until the tobacco glowed a bright orange and returned it to his lips as his third eye saw Sasha’s lips moving and then Emilia spoke in his direction after. Sergio simply answered, thinking it would sum up everything Emilia, Sasha, and Alex might have asked or said, “Do what you like.”

He dragged on the cigarette, exhaling the smoke on two gray streams from his nostrils. Normally, Sergio didn’t smoke in the warehouse, but he didn’t plan to waste anymore time after breakfast. He was going to shower and take a nap before work.

When Terelle entered the kitchen and brought banter and horseplay, it would have been all right if Alex hadn’t been leaning against his shoulder. When her jostling bumped his arm, his spatula sent a sunny-side up egg flying like a saucer across the stove to splat against the unsanitary counter. Sergio’s brows furrowed in irritation. Wasting food didn’t go down well with him, especially since he bought it. He regarded the displaced egg for a few seconds, before he reached the spatula over and scooped it up, dumping it onto a plate. Someone was going to have a bad egg, and it was a price paid for bothering him while he was at work in the kitchen.

Arden

Well, it was obvious that everyone was somewhat awake now – Arden had just greeted the others when yet another familiar figure sprinted through the kitchen and out the door. The boy hadn’t even the time to say hello before Terelle was out of sight. Pressing lightly on his wound before wincing and removing his hand, he stared at the door, left slightly ajar. Now where could she have been going in such a rush at this early in the morning? Keeping in mind previous incidents, Arden assumed that it most likely had to do with a certain missing Alex De’veres.

Before Arden could linger on the thought, another familiar face, Sergio, entered through the door, and lo behold, he had his arms full of welcome plastic bags – groceries. Goodies. Food. Goodies was a better word, seeing as what some of the group had ordered couldn’t necessarily be called ‘food’. Grinning, Arden reached for the bulkier bag the moment it was set on the table. “Awesome! Thanks, Sergio,” he chimed, shifting through its contents. He found what he was looking for – the anything-but-nutritious box of sugar-frosted cornflakes. It had mini-marshmallows in it too, along with a questionable amount of food additives, but he tried his best to forget those tidbits of information.

However, as soon as he tore open the box along the dotted line, Sergio’s voice cut in, “Get out before I kill you all.”

… Well, if he put it that way, getting out was probably a good idea. Popping a couple of sugar-bits of cereal into his mouth, he turned to leave when he heard the voice of one of his favorite people. “Sasha!” he exclaimed, twisting around to see his… partner, he liked to call their relationship. Being the thoughtful person she was, she was offering a helping hand in the kitchen. Arden would have done the same, but with his purposefully diminished vision and a past… event… he was forever banned from the kitchen. And more frankly put, Sergio scared him. Just a little.

“And good morning, Sunshine. How are we?” Sasha asked him cheerfully, as she often did.

With a bright smile he replied, “Same as ever – doing well!” He vaguely noticed Emilia slip in and heard her murmur something about the effects of cigarettes. Arden recalled when he used to say the same to Sasha, but he didn’t anymore. At some point he’d come to like the smell of it… maybe it was just familiar to him now. He wanted to spend more time with Sasha, but a glance at Sergio reminded him of the previous warning. “I’ll just take these and uh… wait outside for now,” Arden added, and with unhealthy cereal in hand, he slipped out of the kitchen with the others. What to do until breakfast, then?

“So, does anyone have anything planned for today?” Arden asked to no one in particular, but hoped for an answer. After all, conversation was really his only source of leisure. Unlike Sebastian, his ‘ability’ prevented him from reading or writing – at least coherently, and he didn’t want a repeat of the morning clumsiness from any physical games. “Anything new on the agenda?”

Marx

The dark head looked up and the book snapped shut when a sound entered his field of hearing. Splinter. Nothing threatening. She was polite, she followed the unspoken protocol that proceeded speaking to him while he was writing. if someone didn't, he'd shut down on them and disregard what they were saying, if they didn't respect him, he wouldn't' respect them. Simple enough. He listened politely to what she had to say, food, come and get it before it's gone, but then she began to bother him a touch. She was staring at him, not into his eyes, but right below them. Seb's facial muscles twitched ever so slightly with is annoyance, then she looked away, seeming to realize her mistake, and hurriedly made an exit. Mentally Seb decided to keep a better eye on her, just in case.

He rose as she shut the door and opened it again, calling in his light yet deliberate voice down the hall after her. "Thank you, Sugar." He said, one of his many meaningless names for the females in their pitiful troupe of freaks. He wandered to his room and re-hid his journals, adding the new one to the stack and securing the floorboard back after he'd settled them inside.

The dark haired male decided that he had some time to burn, just in case Dashkov was still in a murdering mood the kitchen wasn't the most ideal place to linger. especially with all those people hanging around, he'd have to mingle. Euch. Not what he wanted to do at the moment. Poking his head out of his messy little room, Marx spotted his little female friend emerging from her's, weapon in hand. Monsowa, Lindsey. He could play for a little while, that sounded enjoyable. He withdrew himself from the doorway, waiting for a couple moments for her to pass, then emerged himself, tailing the young woman out the door.

Seb darted, being agile was favorable in these situations, so he managed to keep a ways behind her without being noticed by the cocky lass. he watched her throw her knives at the tree a few times before nearing her, his hands in his pockets and an indifferent mask gracing his features.

"Well, look who we have murdering vegetation here." He said, his voice tinged with dry amusement, an inflection that was reserved almost exclusively for Monsowa. "Having fun, my little Scarlett?" His face still waned blank, but he did cast his eyes over to the tree then back at her. They glittered like an amused cat's amber orbs.

'There's always fun to be had when Monsowa was around, that was for sure. Let's see how annoyed she becomes this morning. Bets on thirty that she throws something at me.' Seb thought to himself, his own personal narration. A habit of his, especially when it had to do with this little firebrand. it always seemed that he was more animated when speaking to her, even if it was merely to torment her with prickled words to watch her explode on him.

"Do what you like." she heard from Sergio, knowing he probably didn't hear a word she had said. Not that it mattered, of course. Because if he was upset with something, he would have said so. Mentally noting that he took much less cautious matters with his cigarettes then her, she dismissed it. It was really only the health of the others she cared about, but she wasn't one to nag others. Besides, a little second hand smoke was probably the least of their worries, wasn't it? She didn't even bother with Emilia's comment, simply nodding in response. It wasn't as if the toxins in the cigarette effected her at all, she didn't absorb them like normal humans did. It was part of her power, not feeling anything like that. For the most part it was wonderful, but now and again she would find herself wishing she could feel this thing people called Advil. If nothing else, she had a pretty high tolerance for pain now.

Taking Sergio's word as a green light, Sasha began taking some bread and toasting it. Not knowing how many people were actually going to eat considering everyone seemed to be grazing on the rest of the things Sergio brought home, she only made five. She also placed several glasses on the table along with a small jug of juice from the fridge. Noticing Arden's skittishness towards Sergio, he slipped out of the kitchen. Sometimes she forgot how the people in this house had an effect on him. He cared so much about what other people thought or would do, and that was something she just didn't understand. But then again, she wasn't the most observant or detail oriented type. Even without his powers, Arden seemed to be the better one of both on that. Smiling, she heard him still trying to talk from outside the kitchen.
“So, does anyone have anything planned for today? Anything new on the agenda?” she heard, tied in with sounds of crunching. He had apparently taken the cereal with him. She hoped that by replying to him she could coax him back in. Sergio looked so involved with his cooking, she was sure he wouldn't notice. He still had his head phones in, anyway.
"Well, if nothing else happens I have a double shift tonight at the bar. Im sure Sergio is working, too." she answered him. She offered up Sergio's information, looking to him for confirmation, but then remembered he probably couldn't hear her. Turning back to the open doorway in which the Arden sounds were coming from, she continued. "And what is it that you would like to do today?"

Sergio had finished the eggs and had his arms raised and hands ready to open a pack of bacon when a hand extended before his face. The thumb and middle finger came together in a muted snap as Sergio’s brown eyes rolled down the length of the arm to meet the stoic face of Devan. Out of all the people in the kitchen, why did he have to come to him? Did he not see he was making breakfast? Perhaps, it was because he was the oldest…

Setting the bacon pack on the counter, Sergio closed his eyes and frowned as he took a long drag from his cigarette to finish it off. He tossed it into the sink as it rolled along the steel and uttered a hissy extinguish as it hit a wet spot. With a grey, irritable sigh, Sergio strode out of the kitchen and went to Devan’s room. He removed his headphones on the way over and wrapped them about his mp3 player. Upon entering Devan’s room, he noticed Emilia lying haphazardly across the floor. The tamer’s expression lightened from its dark irritation as he walked over to take a knee next to her body. The first thing he did was press two fingers to her neck to check and see if she had a pulse. He then pressed the back of his hand to her forehead to feel if she had a fever.

Well, she wasn’t dead. Sergio looked to Devan and told him, “Take her to her room. She just fainted.”

If Sergio had seen her behavior, then he might have assumed it was due to stress, but he had his perception focused on the kitchen and parts of the living room. The circumference of his mind’s eye hadn’t been that wide to reach the bedrooms. Since Devan was her assassin, it was his responsibility to care for his tamer.

Emilia Rae Marlen

Flying. She was flying, or perhaps she was floating. It seemed as if she had no control over her body. Around her, she heard voices, but she didn't seem to be able to comprehend what was being said. She felt that she should recognize them, but as she tried to make them out they faded away. Falling. She then felt as if she were falling, and it didn't seem to stop. As she opened her mouth to scream, nothing came out, her voice wasn't there - and she was engulfed by complete nothingness.

As Emilia sat up abruptly, the first thing she saw was Devan. "Are you okay? Have you eaten? They did save food for you right? What's wrong...you look..." She finally took a moment to breathe and look around, realizing she was in her room. But why was she in her room, the last place she had been in was in Devan's room. And she was on her bed, but why? It occurred to her how tired she had been, the sleep she hadn't gotten, how frustrated she was - but how did she get into her bed? But as she focused more on Devan, she was able to make out he had been the one who took back to her bedroom, reason being it looked like he had just touched some disgusting creature or was covered in germs so to speak. Like he was trying to get them off somehow. Her drained expression turned into a smile, "Thank you." she said softly. "I'm..so sorry, I promise it wont happen again." She felt bad, Devan wasn't exactly comfortable with the whole physical contact thing.

Emilia slowly rolled over onto her tummy and pulled up her pillow. "So after breakfast, I had these for you. Well, Sergio got them." She grabbed one of the bags of candy and placed it on what she used as a sort of end table. Emilia yawned and fought her current double vision, placing herself in a sitting position on her bed. She brushed her snow white hair out of her face, her long time shackles slightly jingling as she did so. She wasn't sure why she was the only person in the house that had them, or still had them, but she somehow had them transformed into weapons. She caught a glimpse of the mess on her floor and flushed a bright red color, apparently she didn't kick them all under her bed like she thought. "So did you eat yet?" she asked again. She then stood up slowly, pushing herself and refusing to believe she was too tired to function properly. She asked Devan many things, even though he wasn't one to talk. In her mind, she believed not talking to him at all would be worse and hurtful.

She recalled wanting to help with breakfast, and frowned slightly, twice today she couldn't help when she wanted to. "I'm just going to grab a plate." she said to Devan. She then walked into the kitchen, spotting what were eggs. Eggs, she loved eggs - eggs and bacon. "Ah...Sergio I am so sorry, I meant to -" she paused, yawning. "I'll clean up when you're all done if that is okay with you." she then grabbed a plate and placed some eggs neatly on it. "Please save me two slices of bacon? Or one slice of bacon - but if there is nothing left it's okay don't worry about it. And I hope you're doing okay..." she said to Sergio. Emilia then walked back into her room, hopefully some food would do her well. She felt so appreciative of Sergio cooking all the time, she always remembered to compliment him and thank him after meals. Though Emilia preferred to eat with everyone, and check up on how they were doing, she didn't want to be seen how she was now.

As soon as Devan left his bedroom carrying Emilia, Sergio returned to the kitchen to set the strips of bacon in the pan. With a pair of tongs, he lined them up neatly and probed at them every now and then until they began to stiffen and wrinkle. Just then Emilia’s voice entered the kitchen. She had recovered pretty quickly, but it wasn’t like she was knocked unconscious. He listened to her apology and how should voluntarily clean the kitchen to save him the trouble—he was tired.

“Thanks,” Sergio replied plainly. “I am fine.”

He retrieved a plate from the cupboard and laid down two paper towel strips; and with the tongs, placed the crispy, dripping bacon on it. With the eggs, bacon, and toast—thanks to Sasha—finished, Sergio got himself a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, two pieces of toast, and fruit juice from the fridge. He walked with his plate into the living room by the front door and took a seat at the rickety table. He began making a sandwich, piling the eggs and bacon onto the toast before laying the second piece of bread overtop. Smashing it down lightly, Sergio plugged one of his headphones back into his ear as he then raised his sandwich and took a crunchy bite out of it.

His dark brown eyes stared aimlessly across the space of the warehouse at the wall on the other side. The only thoughts that were on his mind were how long it would take him to finish eating, how much time would he have to take a shower and nap, and estimating the spare time he had left to make it to his job on time.

Marx

The slender male didn't hear the girl's words, but he did feel her hand on his head. His body froze, and his eyes flicked open. The amber disks were glazed with pain, but all the same they fixed on the blonde, trying to discern what exactly she was doing. A little part of his mind was flipping out, warning bells blaring crazily. Weakness, she is right there and you are totally helpless. Do something you idiot! The little bit of grey matter screeched. But he didn't move away. She was speaking again, and He was trying to listen.

Don't speak of it? Speak of what? Seb wondered for a moment. Then he discovered what it was. At first he thought he was imagining the tug he felt on the delicate skin of his forehead, but no. His skin was actually knitting itself back together. The male's eyes almost bugged out. it didn't hurt, per say, but he was beginning to really wonder if he was stoned. Well, he had been stoned, with just...one stone, but not that kind of stoned. High, stoned. The pain in his brain began to fade away as the skin continued it's slow merge back to it's original location, and Marx let out a soft sigh of relief. Well, relief mixed with paranoia. He owed Monsowa now, she was helping him. He hated owning people things, but this couldn't really be helped.

He'd just not think about it, eh?

When she pulled her hand away, Seb was restored enough in his humors to make a somewhat retort. "It's because of my big heart." He gave a sort of shaky grin. He was still much too pale, and his face was smeared with blood, but he was feeling much better. His knees still wanted to give out though. He needed something to eat.

Carefully, Seb began to move, stretching himself first. Then, on a sudden urge he leaned over and brushed his lips against Lyndsey's cheek. "Thanks, Monsowa." He said. With that he swaggered off, back to the house as gracefully as he possibly could.

He just wanted to elicit a reaction, he told himself decisively. He wasn't going soft or anything. Emotions were for fools, and he sure as hell didn't feel anything but detached amusement towards the blonde. Now was food time though, best not to think of such things. He'd keep quiet. Nothing every happened. Nothing at all.

The tall male nodded at Dashkov as he passed the sitting room, uncaring as to whether the other noticed his polite gesture or not. Although, it would be rather difficult to miss him, with his blood-smeared face and pale countenance. Upon entering the kitchen, Seb attacked the remaining food, procuring bacon, eggs, toast, and upending a milk carton over his face to retrieve the last pint from it. Then he settled down on the floor next to the table, he preferred floors to chairs, to eat, his back to the door again because he was so involved in masticating his food. He was hungrier than he's though he was.

Next he'd need to wash the blood off his face, but for right now he was content to eat.

Once Lindsey felt the skin stop moving she removed her hand, looking at Sebastian's face she saw the blood still smeared on it. Color was returning to his face but he still looked pale, even for his standards. She almost brushed the hair out of her face but when she realized she still had his blood on her hands she stopped and just blew them away from her eyes. The blood had began to drip and she figured she was going to have to wash the crimson off her hands now. Splendid. Simply splendid. But was he okay?

It's because of my big heart. Yeah, weasel was back. She would have to give him a new nickname, since he didn't really seem like a weasel anymore. She didn't know why he ever seemed like one in the first place, except for the fact that she was tall and thin, getting into people like her (or only her) buisness, or just the fact that she didn't like weasels. Whatever it had been didn't matter, she needed to think of something else. Her expression turned from a hint of worry to one of relief, but she quickly hid that. Why am I relieved? She thought to herself. Wasn't that what I meant to do? She shook the thought out from her head and was about to spit out another insult towards him when she saw him lean in closer. She was prepared to swat him but what he did caught her by suprise.

He bent over and kissed her cheek. Instead of the normal swarm of emotions she felt whenever he did something, he mind went blank. Empty. She couldn't say or think anything. When he walked away Lindsey didn't even hear him thank her, she still felt his lips on her cheek. When he walked inside her face heated up and she knew she was blushing. She could finally think enough to be embarrassed? What just happened? Se thought as she slowly walked inside, thinking that she must have stopped blushing, or that the natural blush in her cheeks would cover any redness still in her face. She saw Sergio and didn't even feel like bugging him. She could only think about what had just occured. He's never tried to annoy me like that.