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A Night of Unwelcome Nostalgia; CLOSED
Topic Started: Mar 10 2011, 02:47 PM (1,144 Views)
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One does not simply eat one packet of mee goreng
Her sudden outbreak against the steel container made him jump slightly due to the suddenness, but it really didn't do much other than raising the bar of his expectation. Whatever that means. He stared at the point of impact between her knuckle and the metal, all the while glancing over to look at her seemingly downcast expression. You really can't blame him for anything, really. It's not his fault that he didn't know how she would react to such a response.

He gave a small sigh as she turned around making her way towards wherever she intended to go. Maybe he should have expected it, really. What sort of person wouldn't be mad if one made light of their life and times of sorrow and despair?

But somehow, he didn't feel like apologizing. How rare. Silence ensued as he let her go on with her chosen path. For a mere few seconds, that is. She didn't even took a dozen steps, before, "You know, if you think I'm just nothing but a naive over-trusting brat, you really should be reminded of what happened back in December. If you forgot, I'll retell the whole story,"

"Once upon a Christmas party, the entire WDA crew was shocked to their bones when Jameson decided to close up the Agency. Everyone was, of course, mad about that. We all wanted to know why, so we asked him. And the answer was so sudden, and his tone was so serious, there was no doubt he wasn't lying. Oliver was being targeted by a group of super-soldiers who threatened to eliminate each and every single one of the WDA group and anyone related to us if we do not hand him over to them,"

"So, not wanting to endanger everyone else, Oliver decided to simply hand himself over. I know I'm not him, and I will never ever be able to understand him, but I know that the decision alone was a hard one to make. Now, hold your horses, that's not the end of it. Jameson had a plan. After handing over Oliver to them to make sure they kept their promise of not touching anyone related to the detective agency, he would break into their headquarter, save Oliver, trash everything to pieces and return safely to everyone,"

"But then they highly doubted that there would be no casualties if they ever tried it by themselves. That's where the rest of the team came in. Oliver went out of his way, putting his entire trust into the whole team for them to help him. There was no way of determining whether we'd go with him or just leave him to his own device. I mean, what sort of idiot would want to throw away their lives for a kid, anyway? ...Well, I suppose you could call us the very type of idiots who'd do just that,"


"Point is, it's really hard to get surprised over something you've been through once. If it happens enough times it could even be called a cliche. ...And if you're worried that we're the type of people who'd ditch their friend just because they bring bad guys to chase our tails, then might as well find another detective agency to work for. Just saying,"

There was a small pause after his oh-so-motivational-speech, before he decided to continue yet again. "Also, if you're really that much against killing people any more..." He stood up, wincing a bit along the way. "Why don't you point those guns at me for a change? If you ever feel like it, you can vent everything out at me, even try to kill me. I promise you, I won't die,"
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Sujin
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Dangerously Cheesy.
Robyn stopped in her tracks and let the wind brush past her, staring off into the distance while Seth continued to give her a monologue she'd already heard multiple times about the events a few months ago. She didn't turn around to look at him. She didn't move a muscle aside from the involuntary ones she had no control over. She wasn't even entirely sure she was paying attention to what he had to say as she drifted off into thought. No...it wasn't thought. It was a numb void of silence in the stream that should have made up her thoughts.

She could feel the smoke and ash in the air from the warehouse drifting along the air sting her throat with each breath as if being a reminder every time she breathed in of what she did. She didn't need the reminder; she was there and made it happen. And yet, the girl wasn't feeling regrets for her actions necessarily. It was the ease with which she'd slipped back into her old ways without much of a second thought that was truly unsettling.

"Point is, it's really hard to get surprised over something you've been through once."


Robyn then turned around to face Seth now that the history lesson was over and he was getting to the point. Beneath the layer of sweat and dust and any blood that may have gotten on her face, her expression was blank.

"If it happens enough times it could even be called a cliche. ...And if you're worried that we're the type of people who'd ditch their friend just because they bring bad guys to chase our tails, then might as well find another detective agency to work for. Just saying."


After turning over what he said a few times in her mind, she picked up a foot and walked back over to him. The mass of anger she felt surging through her earlier had died off and tapered into a numb lack of feeling as if it was the only way her brain could keep her from snapping. This may not have been entirely untrue. For a person her age who had seen what she'd seen and done what she'd done, she needed some kind of a buffer to keep from going over the edge.

Closing the space between the two so neither would have to raise their voice, she voiced her own statements.

"First of all, I'm not worried about being ditched. If that were the case, I would have stayed solo,"
she clarified for him. "This thing, this...group of 'bad guys' as you put it...it's far bigger than this agency. It's going to take more than an after-school detective club to undertake this sleeping giant that just woke up."

Robyn slowly pulled one of her guns out of its holster and turned it over in her hands, running her fingertips over the smooth, cool metal while looking it over carefully. She handled the weapon almost like it was a fragile antique that might shatter.

"I don't doubt your guys' loyalty to one another, as you so kindly demonstrated through your speech. But even then, if you're going to go as far as calling it friends..."
she trailed off for a few moments, "Friends don't put other friends into this kind of danger if they can avoid it. It's selfish."

She looked over at him as he continued to talk.

"If you're really that much against killing people any more, why don't you point those guns at me for a change? If you ever feel like it, you can vent everything out at me, even try to kill me. I promise you, I won't die."


Robyn's expression changed from one of the slightest sliver of remorse to one of uncertainty. Maybe she would take him up on his offer, she could've used the opportunity to blow off some steam. With little hesitation she raised the gun she'd been holding, pointed it inches from his face right between the eyes, and...

Click.

The trigger pulled back, the hammer fell, but no blast issued forth from the end of the weapon. Was the gun faulty? No, not in the least. She lowered her gun-wielding arm to her side and looked him square in the eye.

"Earlier tonight I didn't shoot you to try and kill you. You had a better chance of survival with the hit coming from me than them, so that was the reason behind those actions. I hoped that if you stayed down long enough for me to finish negotiating, the building would be vacated with you assumed to be a casualty and you'd eventually get up a move on. I had hoped that by a show of force against one of my colleagues they'd believe I'd do the same to any of the others I work with, thus taking them off the list of potential hostages in the future."

"I don't know what sort of impression you've gathered from me over the few times we met," here she turned away from him, her back once again to the blaze, "But I don't kill as an emotional outlet. I may have a reputation, but I have never eliminated someone who didn't deserve it."

That was a bit more soul baring than she wanted to do that night, but deep down she knew it needed to be said to someone other than herself. It was the first time she admitted aloud that she was acting in the interest of someone other than herself, at least in terms of people she knew rather than the vague "greater good." Still, she had always viewed herself as strong, so she was not going to allow herself to collapse any more than she already had in front of the boy.
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One does not simply eat one packet of mee goreng
Click.

Okay. Admittedly, it was a bit scary. He winced a bit, half-closing his eyes when the trigger was pulled, a bead of cold sweat trailed down his cheek. But he refrained himself ducking out of the gun's line of sight. As stated earlier, facing down the dark barrel of a live gun is not something that most people would find pleasant. Heck, no one finds it pleasant. And he couldn't help but feel relieved that the gun did not fire, despite what he said about taking the shot. I mean, it's a normal reaction, right? Who the hell likes to be shot in the head at point blank range?

Right after that she began what seemed to be an explanation to her action earlier, namely shooting him. As she got to the end, for some reason he couldn't help but feel a very heavy weight of realization being dumped on top of his head. Of course, it wasn't him who had snapped, and at that time he was still a bit too disoriented to be able to stop him. So it really wasn't his fault. But still... he couldn't help but feel like something very very important has been wasted for nothing. Unconsciously, he could feel a small growing hatred welling up inside him directed at V. If he hadn't gone off the hook like that... none would have to die. None would have to bear the burden or the guilt of killing everyone. None would have to be caught up in whatever mess they managed to get caught up into.

Meh.

The little wrath died off quickly enough. That's just him, to forgive people no matter how big their blunders are. Some even go as far as to call him 'too forgiving'. There's no doubt, and he knows it, that one of these days this habit of him is going to bite him back in the ass, but what does he care? V's just being V. Hot-blooded, snappy, and extremely loyal.

Seth scratched his cheek a bit as he turned his head sideways, kinda avoiding from looking at her. "Well... sorry about that," It has always felt kind of stupid and kind of irritating to be apologizing for something he's not responsible for. But despite that he keeps on taking things on his own shoulder. He didn't care what the consequences are, even if it might cost him his own life.

So in a way, he kind of understands her intention.

But even then, he still felt like something's off. Even though he highly agree with her, he couldn't help but feel like contradicting her. For some reason, conversations he had with Oliver back at the dorm room fluttered across his head. "Then I suppose being selfish is a good thing. The WDA would've been gone if Oliver hadn't decided to be selfish. And this 'after-school detective club' took down an entire group of super-soldiers that are capable of leveling out an entire city in less than ten minutes," Okay, so that might be a little bit exaggerating, but it's not that far from the truth.

He scratched his head, sighing as he did so. Maybe he's thinking too much. He's usually not like this. Most of the time he'd just storm right in the middle of whatever is going on right now and do as much of a right thing as he could possibly do. He'd keep things simple and easy. And it should be the same in this case. So... "By the way-" All of a sudden he coughed up a great deal of blood. Thick sticky red liquid spattered the ground as he doubled over because of the pain. "Uh... well, that hasn't happened in a while..." He said, his voice shaking slightly. "Anyway, telling me all this is kinda moot, with all that had just happened," Once again, he said that in a matter-of-factly-tone. It's like he doesn't even care what had just happened. Well, he doesn't. All he care about is what will happen from now on, and how to deal with the upcoming problem. "If, for some reason the entire underground organization from the whole world suddenly targets the WDA, all we have to do is to be ready, right?"
Edited by Fin, Mar 24 2011, 11:09 AM.
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Sujin
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Dangerously Cheesy.
The atmosphere was starting to die down from one of awkward tension and anger to another of slightly more understanding (although not without some residual tension). Robyn was able to start collecting her thoughts and put everything in order, as this was nothing new for her, although it was something she didn't want to have to deal with yet again. She would have to figure out a way to get everything under control at some time or another, and it was better sooner than later.

"I'm not doubting that you all know what you're doing, and have some skill beyond answering calls to find lost sets of car keys. It's just..."


She shifted her weight on her feet uncomfortably, though it was related more to what she was going to say than any physical strain. Her eyes shifted away from him and gazed off into the distance, avoiding any eye contact from him. It was like watching a child trying to tell a parent that she stole some money out of their wallet for a candy bar.

"I'm used to working alone. Relying on others isn't my thing, and I found that out pretty quickly when I got burned enough times. The type of betrayal that kind of messes you up for a while."


Admitting her shortcomings was probably one of the most difficult things for her to do, if not just to herself then especially to someone else. But if she was going to make this happen and turn her life around, she had to start somewhere. She couldn't stay cooped up inside herself forever if she expected to get any mutual trust from anyone.

"I'm aware of what I need to do, and...I'm working on it."


Her attention was redirected to Seth as he gave a rather gurgley cough, expelling some blood from esophagus. That was certainly not a good sign. Despite the fact that it appeared he had healed himself, something was still wrong...or maybe he normally coughed up blood? Surely he wasn't always in this much pain, especially enough to cause him to fold over.

"If, for some reason the entire underground organization from the whole world suddenly targets the WDA, all we have to do is to be ready, right?"


He did a decent job of appearing alright a few minutes ago, but now was a different story. It was time to get out of the area as was evident by the distant wailing of fire trucks. Someone must have seen the blaze from afar and called it in, since none of the people involved that night would have wanted to blatantly draw attention to themselves or what they were doing. So much for all those stories those people weaved to their loved ones about having a "late night at the office" or "a round of drinks with the boys."

With a sense of urgency (but not panic), Robyn once again took his arm and threw it over her shoulders for support whether he liked it or not.

"You were pretty good about lying through the pain before, but you're cover's blown now. The hospital will ask too many questions so I'm taking you back to my apartment where we can check you out. It's not too far away, but you're going to have to walk. Unless my shot did some sort of damage to your heart, you probably still have fragments--if not the entire piece--of that bullet in you." It wasn't too hard to figure out since he had been applying pressure to the area where the gunshot was originally in the side of his torso. She began walking at a brisk pace while helping Seth along, vacating the premises before the law enforcement arrived.




Getting him up the flights of stairs wasn't easy, but they made it back to the apartment where she unlocked the door, flipped on the lights and ushered him inside. The apartment was nearly immaculate but this was easy to accomplish as it was also pretty bare. It was pointless to acquire a bunch of stuff if one was moving all the time. She shut, locked, and bolted the door before finishing the walk into the living room where she sat him down on the couch, likely much to his relief.

"Stay there while I grab some things."


She walked over to the kitchen and opened up a pantry from which she extracted a few things. Re-entering the living room she set down on the coffee table a few surgical tools, cotton balls, some gauze and a roll of bandages, a small dish, a towel, a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, and finally a bottle of scotch.

"Alright, shirt off and lay back, this isn't going to be fun. I'll do my pre-surgery prep."


With that, she took the bottle of scotch, pulled out the cork, and instead of dumping the liquid on the area on which she was about to operate, she threw back a shot or two straight from the bottle into her mouth. She made a face similar to what one might make if a burning liquid ran down their throat, and set the bottle back down on the table. She could feel the liquid warming her body almost instantly, being a quick fix to dole out a combination of courage and relaxation, while still keeping her wits about her.

"I've never liked doing at-home surgery, but I found this helps,"
she said, rubbing her tongue against the roof of her mouth to try and get the taste out. She picked up the bottle of hydrogen peroxide, soaked a cotton ball with it, and wiped off the area of skin she was planning on working on. She set those down, and picked up the sharp scalpel.

"Okay. Are you ready?"
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One does not simply eat one packet of mee goreng
It wasn't exactly a pleasant trip to his alleged sanctuary. He managed to cough up blood a few more times before they got at her apartment. Dizziness due to blood loss wasn't helping matters much as he kept on swaying around loosing footings every now and then, missing steps on the stairs and nearly passing out with each landing. He managed to hold it together until they reached a kinda familiar looking scene of the front of an apartment room. The door to the apartment room swung open, and he was hit with a sense of nostalgia.

It's kinda ironic how just a few months ago he had once been in her shoes, escorting a drunken pinstriped suit-wearing girl back to her home similar to this one. Of course, back then it was because of a completely different reason. This time sorta had life and death mixed into it. He was led into the room, and he unconsciously began to compare her living quarter with the one he had been in before. This one was certainly seemed a whole lot more... 'full'. Not much difference, but there's a slight sense of liveliness here. Maybe it's the television? Aki doesn't even have a television. Just an old antique radio.

To his relief, no doubt about that, he was finally set down on the couch, and he immediately fell to his side, too exhausted to even stand up straight. He was panting heavily, sweating profusely, his nose was being clogged with the overwhelming smell of blood from his clothing, he could feel dull throbbing sensation in his torso, like there's little bits of metals stuck inside his stomach and possibly some other organs he doesn't want to know about. Who would've thought it'd be this bad.

He thought he probably shouldn't go unconscious yet, so he pushed himself back up. Just in time to see Robyn coming from the kitchen bringing with her a few things that might be needed for who knows what. Wait, did she say surgery? The gears in his head started moving a bit quicker to process the feeling of apprehension that had manifested itself in his heart. Of course, that really should have been expected. Even V himself said earlier they still needed to get the bullet out. Problem is, Seth here never thought it would be done so quickly like this. He thought he might have at least a few days to prepare for it. And V made sure to point out that the thought was stupid.

Seth hesitated for a moment before he reluctantly took off his blood-soaked sweater, revealing a body with a pretty average build that really didn't suggest any extensive workout being done to contribute to his apparent high physical capability. He held back from lying down though, as it would generally mean the fact that he'd be sliced apart is imminent. He held the sweater close to him, watching her chug down a bottle of alcohol with a little indignation. "Is that a good idea, to be drinking before performing a surgery?" And frankly, he couldn't find anything about drinking alcohol that would help in at-home surgery. She seemed pretty adamant about it, though, as she immediately doused a cotton ball with hydrogen peroxide and dabbed it around the spot where she would begin her work. And the sight of the sharp scalpel in her hand was fairly terrifying. "V... V, you sure we need to do this...?" He was his last hope to bail out of this.

Do you really want me to dig out the bullet out of you myself? Either way, you're getting sliced up. So it's better to get this done sooner than later. It could get worse than this.

That was an undisputed point brought up by the meta-virus. Putting it off really does nothing than delaying the inevitable. Because it's inevitable, it's pointless to put it off, really, since the outcome of putting it off would be death anyway. Grudgingly he laid himself down on the couch, gripping tightly on the sides of it, preparing himself for whatever hellish world he might enter. "O-okay..." He said, his voice shuddering in fear. "Ready..."
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Sujin
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Dangerously Cheesy.
"V... V, you sure we need to do this...?"

She wasn't sure what the letter V had to do with this, or if he'd taken it upon himself to give her a nickname without her knowledge, but she decided to respond.

"Unless you want to be in pain and eventually die, then yes, we need to do this."


Robyn drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, leaning over him to tilt the floor lamp in her living room to better see where she was going to be operating. She had dug out bullets from herself before, but never on someone else. Hopefully this way would be easier. She had no formal medical training except for very basic first aid and what she had picked up over the years for survival. Seth clung to the couch for dear life and gave her the go ahead. Before delving into operate she looked him in the eye, trying to give him some sort of reassurance that she wasn't going to slice him up and let him bleed to death.

"Alright...stay with me."


Robyn folded up the towel she brought and placed it under his back where the wound was to help stop the bleeding. She then lightly pressed her fingers in various places on his abdomen around where he had been shot, looking to see what got the most response. Once she hit part of his body that really made him grimace she took note of the area. It was much further in from the entrance wound in his back than she would have liked, but luckily it seemed closer to the surface of his skin.

"I don't want to dig through your back to get it since it's so far in, so we're going to try another avenue of approach."


She wiped down the skin with the cotton ball once more and took the scalpel to cut into his torso, slowly slicing into the flesh and making about a four inch incision. Letting out a held breath and setting down the small knife, she picked up a retractor to hold the skin apart with one hand while she used her dominant hand to wield a pair of forceps. Carefully the girl started to look through the boy's soft inner tissue so try and find the bullet.

"Come on, where are you..."


She was strangely calm through the procedure thus far. Maybe it was the scotch, or maybe doing it enough times on herself made it easier. She knew that if she began to panic it would only freak out the boy and make things messier. Still, the entirety of it all was not pleasant in the least. This wasn't exactly how she pictured her "team bonding" going down.
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One does not simply eat one packet of mee goreng
A loud painful gasp, and a sudden painful jerk. His hand gripped the couch tightly, nearly ripping away a part of it as he tried to bear the overwhelming pain of being sliced open without anesthetic. He thought it was weird, seeing as he had been through something much much worse than this. He had been impaled by spikes, spikes, and more spikes, he had been drilled through his midriff, being frozen, crushed by a fifty tonne weight... okay, so that was a bit exaggerating. But the point still stand. He had been through stuffs much worse than having a four inch incision made on his torso, but what made this one so painful, when he could just shrug off the others like they're nothing but flies?

It's not exactly the physical pain. If we were to compare it by that this one would lose big time. No. Put it this way. All this time he had been cut, impaled, frozen and drilled, he never expected it would happen. Everything happened so suddenly. It's just like accidentally cutting your finger when using a knife. The pain of something accidentally inflicted on you would be much easier to handle. But compare it to purposely cutting your own finger. Nay, you HAVE to cut your own finger. You don't want to, but you have to. An inevitable event when combined with the desire to avoid said event would cause extreme mental agony to the victim.

Not to mention the fact that there's nothing else around to distract him, he was forced to focus on the pain of the surgery. And that's not helping matter.

It hasn't even been that long. It hasn't even been thirty seconds. But that thirty seconds felt like a year to the meta-virus. True, it's not him who had to go through the operation. He wasn't even supposed to be involved, to be connected whatsoever. he could have severed the connection with his brain, sever everything so that he would not have to feel what Seth had to go through. But there was no avoiding it. For some unknown reason he could actually feel everything Seth could feel. It's like he was a part of him. It was torturous for the meta-virus. He didn't like it. He wanted her to STOP!!!

All of a sudden one of his hand shot out, grabbing her dominant hand holding the forceps, preventing her from going any further than she should. "What... V, what are you...?"

Stop this... just... stop this...


"But isn't this your idea-"

I KNOW I'M CONTRADICTING MYSELF, DAMN!!! I don't know... it's just.. it's just...

His voice trailed off into a distant and distressing silence. It's not that he was worried for himself. Well... yes, he's worried for himself. He could really go crazy having to hear the disembodied screaming of Seth's bottled-up feelings. There was really only one time that he had let everything out, all at once, and the result was catastrophic. V just couldn't bear to see him go through that again. He didn't want to see all those emotions, piling together like a giant junkyard of non-disposable trash. It's just...

"...let her go,"


...

Defeated, he loosened his control over Seth's arm, letting the sensation slowly leave his consciousness, allowing him to release her wrist from the vice grip. He lowered his hand back to its initial position, resuming his grasp on the couch. "Sorry... go on..." His voice was still shaky, but it had a different kind of aura to it, the aura of determination and the willingness to see through it to the end. He'd already got this far, why stop now?
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Dangerously Cheesy.
The search for the bullet was going alright, aside from the fact that she still hadn't found it. Robyn was making as much of an effort as possible to create minimal damage to the tissue she was looking through, but when it came down to it, she was no surgeon. Suddenly she felt her forceps tap into something hard and metallic, and she breathed a small sigh of relief.

"Found it! Now I just need to--"

Her muscles seized up as Seth launched his hand out to grab a tight hold onto her wrist with little to no warning. She was caught between the desire to flip this around and knowing she couldn't move with the two medical instruments in her hands. Her eyes wide and brow furrowed, she snapped her head to look directly at him in confusion, all movement frozen for fear of doing some irreparable damage to his torso. Her first thought was that she caused some sort of immense pain and this was his way of dealing with it. Then the mysterious monologue ensued.

"But isn't this your idea--"


Bewildered by the fact that she couldn't tell if he was addressing her or not, she responded anyway.

"I suppose it is, mostly because I can't afford to tell Jameson I was the reason a name was crossed off his payroll. Unless you want me scrambling your intestines and causing some major bleeding, you need to--"


"...let her go."


Moments later the grip on her arm slackened and she was allowed to move again, the tension in her shoulders gradually dropping and little more than red marks on her wrist resulting in damage. Not bad considering it could have been a lot worse. She was starting to wonder more and more what his deal was. Was he schizophrenic? Whatever it was, he seemed to be dealing with some sort of internal battle, like a contest of at least two separate wills. Strange.

Robyn shook it off, raising a shoulder and turning her head to brush some hair out of her face without removing her hands from the operation site. Switching between the forceps and wad of gauze to soak up the excess blood, it was a painstaking few minutes to actually extract the bullet from the pocket of muscle fibers. Her breath was shallow, focusing everything on getting it out as efficiently as possible. Eventually she was able to clamp around it, vaguely reminiscent of the children's game Operation, and dropped the piece of metal into the dish with a plinking sound. It wasn't until afterward that she let out a sigh and realized she had been practically holding her breath the whole time.

"There, that wasn't bad. And the bullet looked intact so you shouldn't have anything else left in there."


She was inwardly relieved for the whole thing to be mostly over. The only thing left was the stitching. She picked up a packet of what appeared to be thread and tore it open, taking out the sterile item and looping it through a needle. Luckily there wasn't much blood seeping from the wound at this point, and that was likely due to the fact that he'd healed himself. With that in mind, she stitched up the knife opening as quickly and cleanly as possible, probably enjoying the process of sewing up flesh just about as much as Seth was. She cut the last bit of thread and tied it off, setting those things aside for the next step.

"You shouldn't be using your stomach muscles so I'm going to roll you over on your side."


Just as she'd said, she rolled him up onto his side opposite of where the shot had been. Holding him up with an arm and using her hands to dress him, she managed to get the gauze kept in place and wrapped an entire roll of ace bandage around his torso. She then carefully laid him back down on the couch before sitting back on her heels with a huff.

"That's just to make sure you don't catch the sutures on anything and rip them out. Of course, with your apparent super healing abilities, I probably didn't even need to use up a pack of them on you. Old habits die hard, I guess."


She stood up, stretching out her legs from sitting on them during the procedure, and walked over to the kitchen. The girl grabbed a glass out of a cupboard, filled it with orange juice, and brought it back to him.

"The only thing I don't have right now are saline bags, so drink that. The sugar will help you out in the short term until your blood is restored, but in the long run you're going to need some meat or vegetables. Of course, you might even have all your blood back with those instantly re-growing cells of yours. How do you feel?"
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One does not simply eat one packet of mee goreng
V sat there, motionless, his hands clasped together and his head hanging lifelessly, Seth's consciousness sound asleep at the small corner in his brain. Lying down just wasn't his style. t makes him feel weak, powerless, especially after what he had been forced to go through. And he didn't even foresee it happening at all. Not that he can anyway, but still, it's just a bit strange.

Physical and mental are two separate things in a single container. It's kinda like water and oil in a beaker. Though they are both liquid in the same container, though both of them can be mixed together, they can never be the same. They will always be something separate. Applying that to his condition, he's fused with his brain. So at times, physical stimulus would be quite unavoidable. Heat, cold, pain, pressure, sometimes, even when he doesn't want to, he would be able to feel it. Because those are stimulus picked up by the human body, sent directly to the brain, and subsequently to V who's fused with Seth's brain. He would be able to feel the same thing Seth was feeling if he wanted to.

Mental are something else. According to how Jameson explained it, physical feeling and mental feeling are two separate thing. Right now him and Seth are sharing the same body, but even though they would be able to experience the world equally at the same time, they see, hear, touch, smell, and taste what the other can see, hear, touch, smell and taste, they will never be able to think the same. There's a small, thin and powerful barrier that separates the mind between a naive innocent kid and a killer meta-virus. They will never be able to feel each others emotion. They wouldn't be able to tell if the other is happy, sad, angry, confused, or whatever. Even all this time, V could only deduce what Seth was feeling by calculating the electromagnetic activity in Seth's brain. But no more than that.

Tonight though, was different. During the surgery he could feel it. He could feel something that doesn't belong to him, something that he shouldn't have been able to feel. Without any reason he was scared, anxious, terrified. He didn't want that scalpel to be anywhere near him. It was scary, but he couldn't stop it. Something inevitable combined with the fear for that inevitable something could easily crush weak-minded people.

This is ridiculous... what's happening to him...?

He was dragged out of his stupor by a glass of orange juice floating into view right in front of him. Blinking slightly, he traced the hand holding it back to the owner of the hand. All this time he could hear mumbling and jabbering, but he couldn't make out a single word. Not that he ever paid any attention. She must have been talking this whole time. Quite a waste of her breath, really, since the only sentence he could make out loud and clear was "How do you feel?"

He glanced at her awkwardly, then returned his gaze at the orange juice before taking it from her hand. "Fine... thanks," The glass was brought to his mouth but he never took a sip, or even tip the glass so the content would be poured down his throat. He was far too preoccupied with his mental health right now. It's not a disease or a mental disorder or something, but it's still something to be concerned about. He's not exactly sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing-

SMASH!!!

The glass broke in his hand , spilling the orange juice all over the couch, his hand and the floor. V jerked his hand away out of shock, before quickly getting down to pick up all the broken pieces of glass. "S-sorry..." He said in a small frantic voice.

...

Wait, why is he apologizing? And that tone, was the kind of tone Seth always use whenever he blunders in something. He paused in his act, wanting but refusing to face her. Just exactly what was happening right now? He's acting just like Seth...

Ridiculous. That's just ridiculous. He's V, a ruthless killer meta-virus with a language to match. Words like 'sorry' or the feeling of guilt doesn't exist in his dictionary. So what's going on here?

...

He grabbed one of the broken piece of glass, set down his hand on the coffee table, raised the hand holding the piece and swung it down at his hand before-

-stopping half a centimeter away from ripping half of his hand to shreds. He was sweating, his heart was racing, his breathing erratic, and, worst of all, and he never wanted to believe he was right...

He was scared to do it.
Edited by Fin, Mar 29 2011, 02:07 PM.
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Robyn stood there and stared at the boy on her couch as she waited for him to grab the glass from her outstretched hand. It was obvious that he wasn't all there, and this could have been due to the fact that he likely lost a lot of blood. Thus, why she brought him the orange juice in the first place. His face seemed to show a mixture of confusion and...something else that she couldn't place...but she chalked it up to disorientation and minor shock from a crude (yet successful) in-home bullet extraction.

After Seth took the juice from her, she withdrew her arm and placed her hands lightly on her hips, keeping a close eye on him. Normally this would've been to make sure he didn't make any sudden movements, but this time it was to make sure he didn't do anything like pass out.

"Fine...thanks,"
came the response to how he was feeling. She didn't buy it entirely.

She never foresaw herself in this type of a situation, using her own medical supplies that she took forever to scrounge up on someone other than herself. She wasn't able to figure out whether Old Robyn would've left Seth on the sidewalk to die, but thankfully whatever mindset she was in now helped him avoid a very painful self-extraction (not that she knew that, of course).

Robyn thought the boy looked a bit pale, and his skin was seeming to turn clammy in appearance even from where she was standing a few feet away. Regardless, she couldn't make any snap judgments on his condition until some time was allowed to pass. He'd been through a lot and she had no idea what his past was like. For her it was a typical night in the old days (if not even a little less eventful), but for all she knew, this could've turned him upside down. Then again, he was part of the Rescue Oliver crew so this couldn't have been too bad.

She stooped over the coffee table to start collecting up the surgical tools and other items while he sat there with all of his stoicism, glass in hand. However, the cracking and crashing of glass onto the floor and the splatter of juice was not something she expected, nearly dropping the sharp objects.

"Seth! What the hell happened?"
she inquired with a look of annoyance. It wasn't like she had enough glassware to entertain an entire group of people, but it looked like she'd have to go out and buy one more. Her brow furrowed and she turned her lips down into a frown as she looked over at him. He looked surprised at what had just happened, but that surprise was mixed with an apology.

"S-sorry..."
he mumbled in what appeared to be embarrassment as he got down on his hands and knees to frantically pick up some of the shards of shattered glass.

Robyn heaved out a sigh and quickly trotted to the kitchen and dropped the medical instruments into the sink so she could clean them, leaving the other stuff on the kitchen counter. She grabbed a couple of bar towels and brought them back to the living room, tossing one onto the puddle of juice on the table and the other onto the floor.

"Don't worry about it, just..."
she took a moment to breathe to keep herself from exploding, "Just...lay back down. Or at least sit down."

Before she was able to properly get started with the clean-up, she caught sight of him grabbing a large, sharp shard of glass and aim for the hand he'd placed on the table. Robyn immediately stopped what she was doing and launched a hand out toward the weaponized one Seth was sending smashing down onto himself.

She'd never know if it was him stopping herself or her effort that actually prevented blood from spilling, but the point was that he didn't connect the weapon with its target. His breathing was labored and his hands were trembling, and both of their hearts were pounding at what just happened.

"What the hell are you doing?!"
she demanded, her hand clamped onto his wrist. Once there was a pause, she pried his hand open and grabbed the broken glass, setting it out of his reach like he was a child holding something he wasn't supposed to. She just painstakingly took a bullet out of his torso and sewed him back up, what was he thinking trying to slice his hand open? The girl had to assume that something was not right here since he didn't seem like the emo or masochistic type.

Robyn snapped her head toward him with the same furrowed expression (though this time with a bit more aggression) she held earlier and grabbed him by the shoulders to push him against the back of the couch. If this kid was a danger to himself, there was also the possibility of him being a danger to her. Pinning his shoulders with some force, she stared him down hardly a foot away from his face.

"What's going on with you? I think you owe me an explanation."


This was not a request, and her tone and glare was proof of that.
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One does not simply eat one packet of mee goreng
He was like a mouse trapped in a corner. Unable to get away even if he wanted to. Not that he couldn't. Really, if he wanted to he could just push himself through all obstacles. No, more like, there's something bigger than the physical form of Robyn holding him back on the couch. Not only his confusion at how whatever was happening to him right now happened, but also the dominating and demanding aura that she was giving off, rendering him somehow unable to even move a muscle to go against her. And that in itself was worrying.

It did, however, shock him out of his reverie. Here he was, wrapped in bandages after having a bullet taken out from is body, pinned back to the couch by someone who was somehow related to his misfortune tonight, and being demanded an explanation for trying to rip apart his own hand.

V gave her a blank stare, at the moment unsure of what to make of this situation. First of all he had to put stuff together, since he was pretty much cut off from the rest of the world just a few minutes ago. Really, there's no reason for her to suddenly switch to interrogation mode for whatever he was hiding. Unless he just did something stupid like trying to cut apart his own hand, which was definitely an indicator of something suspicious or worrisome going on. Only an idiot would dismiss that as something normal.

She demanded an answer, an explanation from him. It's something to be expected, really. Seth is not the kind of person to cut his hand in half as punishment for something as stupid as breaking a glass. Even those whom had never known him should be able to tell that he's not the type to commit harakiri. But really, what should he say? What could he say? It's not like anyone would actually believe him if he said he claimed himself to be a demon from hell, or a second personality, or whatever. Sure, there's some who readily accepts the fact (despite it being a little bit off from the truth), but he's not sure what's her opinion about Multiple Personality Disorder. So you can tell that he's a bit on the edge. He'd be happy to just dump her request demand for an explanation down the dump, but there's still the question of Seth's alibi... however that word's supposed to be used.

"It's confidential information, and I owe no one an explanation," He said simply, nudging her hands off him after coming to a decision. Really though, there's no reason for him to tell anyone anything about his dilemma. Heck, he's not even sure if it's qualified to be called a dilemma. Sure, being able to feel what Seth could feel was indeed something to be concerned about, but that's no reason for him to make a huge deal out of it. He'll deal with it himself. "Thanks for the concern anyhow," Apparently, from his tone, he still haven't gotten over the fact that she had shot Seth.
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"Confidential"? "Thanks for the consideration"?

No. Not this time.

She had noticed some strange quirks about him before, from the time he flipped out about her touching the files he was carrying, to straight-up attacking her in the warehouse, and now finally attempting to stab himself in the hand. Something was not right here and she was going to get to the bottom of it. It was more for herself than anything else, but she couldn't properly work with this guy if she didn't know much about him. Call it a defense mechanism if you want.

The lack of feeling or reaction she saw in his face was particularly infuriating as he just made a pretty big deal about something only a few moments ago. She planted a knee on the couch and leaned her weight into him, now inches instead of a foot from his face. Her eyes were narrowed and her tone was low.

"Listen Seth. I'm not asking you what your problem is because I want to go sell your 'secret medical information' to the black market or to spread rumors about you. If we are going to be able to work together ever," she emphasized this word, "You are going to have to instill some more trust in me and I'll attempt to reciprocate."

Huh, Robyn demanding people to trust her. This was new. But how long would it last?

"I don't like working in teams. Let alone teams of people who threaten themselves and others for 'confidential reasons.' Don't for a single SECOND think that the basis of this demand is for 'building a more solid friendship.'"
Her grip started to tighten on the boy's shoulders as she built up on the interrogation. "You can either answer my question and drop the attitude for the sake of future inevitable missions together...or you can get the hell out of my apartment."

Well...it looks like Old Robyn is still very much alive.

The ex-mercenary lingered with their eyes locked for a few painstaking moments of silence and shoved Seth's shoulders back against the couch before standing back up. She was not in the mood for games, not with everything that happened that night, and the last thing she needed was a brat of a high schooler trying to be high and mighty. When it came down to the bare bones of the situation, even if she didn't know it, her reaction to the glass was in defense of Seth from himself so there had to be something more than what she was leading on through her demands.

It would be an awful shame for the night to end on such a bad note. Robyn was sure to move out of the way in case Seth decided to take his leave. If he decided to do so, she wasn't going to stop him. She might even be happy to be rid of him and left to herself, but she wasn't one-hundred-percent sure what she wanted just then. The whole situation was confusing and she wanted some clarification but was struggling to find the ability to ask in a way that might be more receptive
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One does not simply eat one packet of mee goreng
He didn't move from the couch even after she had gotten off him. In fact, he was too shaken he didn't have the strength to even move. It wasn't something physical holding him back. More like, something mental. No, nothing directed to him. The dialog from earlier was directed to Seth, not him. Normally he wouldn't even care. He wouldn't give a damn what Seth had gotten himself into.

Well, that was a long time ago. He didn't know when and where did he change, he didn't know what made him change, he didn't know why he'd changed. But he does know one thing. What she said infuriated him. Her talking that way to Seth irritated him. All coolness and rationality had been wiped out from his head, as he stood up from the couch and turned around to face her with a look of defiance. "You leave him out of this," He said in a low but clear voice.

Ah shit, what did he just said? There was a moment of pause before he face-palmed himself, cursing at his ridiculous level stupidity. What the hell made him snap at her like that? He raised his hand, turned around, in an attempt to take the conversation back to his comfort zone, he said, "Um... nothing, just forget..." Oh sure, like hell she's actually just gonna forget about it. He paused for a moment, withdrawing his hand from his face, before turning back to face her. "...I'm not Seth, alright?"

Okay, he really shouldn't have said that. Sure, there's a lot of people who would readily accept the fact that Seth have Multiple Personality Disorder or was possessed by some unworldly demon or whatever, but the problem is none of them would question him any further than that. Also because there's really no harm in telling them. But in this situation it's different. Just what sort of crazy little conclusion and summary she'd come up with after this? "Of forget it, just keep in mind that Seth is not responsible for whatever blunders and misconducts that this body did," He picked up his bloodied sweater and draped it over his shoulder, turning around for the exit. "...I don't care if you don't believe me, it's not my problem anyway," Lies. "Sorry to impose myself on you,"
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"Leave WHO out of this? There's only two of us here!"

Robyn was about to lose her mind with this kid. He wasn't talking sense, or he had a base case of talking about himself in third person. That always annoyed her when people did that. Why would someone talk in the third person? She was pretty sure that there was no such thing as a speaking impediment that made it impossible for the person to grasp the concept of first-person dialogue.

Whatever was wrong with him, he seemed to be struggling with it internally. His body language suggesting that he didn't want to breach the issue was obvious, but she was going to pry it out of him one way or another. Was it possible that he didn't know what was going on with him, almost like two separate streams of consciousness? Maybe he would answer it for her on his own.

"...I'm not Seth, alright?"

That was getting somewhere, but it still didn't make sense. Did he have an identical twin who was up until this point posing to be Seth? That may explain the rash behavior of him lashing out at her in the warehouse (not to say it wasn't warranted). But still, there seemed to be something very black and white about him, almost like a bipolar issue of some sort.

"If you're not Seth, then who are you?"
she asked with a sense of finality. There was the big question. Who WAS he? It was becoming clear that she wanted to get this over with. One hand dropped down to her hip and the other hung at her side, weight shifted to one side. At least she wasn't flying off the handle at this point anymore...not to say it couldn't happen.

"Oh forget it, just keep in mind that Seth is not responsible for whatever blunders and misconducts that this body did,"
the boy replied bluntly while collecting his short list of belongings and heading to the door. "...I don't care if you don't believe me, it's not my problem anyway. Sorry to impose myself on you." With that the boy turned to face the door and make an exit for himself.

She did give him that second option of vacating the premises, but she was pretty sure she was not done with him yet. Rather than rushing up to him and taking him by the shoulder to physically stop him, she chose a more indirect means of tethering him to the room for just a few more moments. It was difficult trying to grasp what on earth he was talking about, but she was going to get some sort of response out of him that made sense to her one way or another.

"Look. I'm not blaming anyone for anything. I'm not gonna say I'm happy about my glassware collection being cut down twenty-five percent, but the point is that I'm not an idiot. I know there's more to this than 'Seth versus Not Seth.'" She paused for a moment in recollection then continued. "You--or Seth, whoever the hell it was--were the one lecturing me earlier about trust amongst members in the Agency. If you can't tell me this one thing, this seemingly pivotal detail of who you are, then how can I think you trust me at all? Of all things, I never pegged you as a hypocrite."
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One does not simply eat one packet of mee goreng
Well, it's to be expected that she would try get even more stuff out of him than what he had just let on. Someone claiming not to be himself was certainly something worth the intrigue. In fact, it makes for a very convenient excuse whenever someone had done something particularly glower-worthy. A ridiculous excuse, that is.

He'd have simply ignored her, he'd have just walked through the door, and never look back in regret. There was nothing she could have done to stop him. Okay, so maybe she could force him to stay by using physical means of detainment, but she didn't. However, there was something to her demand on knowing who he is. Who V is, to be more exact. It's not a rhetorical question. It's a real question.

Not blaming anyone for anything, well, isn't that nice. That took a whole lot of burden off from his shoulder. No, seriously. It does. And internally he was quite glad that she said that without so much as a hesitation. Enough to 'persuade' him to wait for a moment as she reasoned her wants to know what the hell is going on inside his brain. As stated earlier, he could ignore her and just leave, but from her tone, it seemed like she was ready to accept just about anything he says right now. Okay, so maybe not everything, but what he could say should be well within her acceptance range.

Problem is...

"I told you. I'm someone else," He said simply, after turning around to peer at her over his shoulder. He didn't look particularly agitated or anxious or nervous or whatever. In fact, he looked like he had just been on a trip to the grocery store and back. "That's all I'm saying. You're smart, figure things out yourself. Besides..." He turned back to the door, unlocking all the locks, turned the doorknob and pushed the door wide open. "...It's sensitive matter for Seth,"

The door snapped smartly in place, leaving the blue-haired girl alone in the apartment.
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