IC contact for wethelost

[devoutish]

Solomons & Melborn
1108 Sweet Cream Street

[Feel free to use this space for letter/package deliveries as well as visits/knocks on the front door!]

Comments

[devoutish]

You're the first face I've seen that looks decent to talk to, mate. That's all.

[bywolves]

You're going to get yourself killed if you just approach people like that.

[devoutish]

Well, it's a very good thing I'm not gonna approach anybody but you like that, isn't it.

[bywolves]

[ Why just him, though? Does Royce know him from somewhere? Is this someone he's screwed over in the past? They couldn't know it was him. He's Duster, and he's careful. This Alfie is going to look for opportunities to kill him, and Royce knows that, so he needs to be careful.

Running isn't a good idea. Too noisy. And Alfie hasn't attacked yet. But Royce does know that there's a gang roaming nearby and that Alfie would make good fodder for them if they decide they want a piece of Royce, so - Royce doesn't go anywhere. He just huddles down, continuing to pick the lock.

Now that Alfie's closer, he's going to see how unhealthy Royce looks. It's similar to Norfinbury, honestly - he's bony and all sharp angles, pale and worn out and the poster child for malnutrition. He looks like a stiff breeze could knock him out for good. ]

[devoutish]

[And Alfie has nothing on him, of course. He sighs, holding up his hands, showing Royce that he's weaponless.]

[bywolves]

[ Royce unlocks the chains with a small click and tosses them to the ground. He stares at Alfie, hunched down, defensive, like an animal. He doesn't say anything, but it's clear he's watching, able to see Alfie clearly in the dark. ]

[devoutish]

Show-off.

[He mutters, moving to sit down on the ground, hunched over next to the wall.]

Who locked you up, then?

[bywolves]

[ Royce tenses and shifts away, almost baring his teeth a bit. ]

Them. Down the way. [ Royce hisses, nodding his head in the direction of the voices down the corridor. ] The favorites.

[devoutish]

Mm. And what was the point of it?

[bywolves]

Stole food from them. Was supposed to be punished by being bound to the wall. Can't steal food that way.

I got out.

[devoutish]

I can see that, yeah. And what are you gonna do to pay them back for it?

[bywolves]

Nothing. [ Royce says, looking at Alfie like he's lost his mind. ] There's ten of them. One of me. I'm staying away.

[devoutish]

There's no way to be tricky? Punish them indirectly?

[bywolves]

[ He scoffs. ] You're an idiot.

[devoutish]

No, I'm a tricky bastard, mate.

[bywolves]

No. Not here, you're not. Tricky bastards die their first day.

[devoutish]

Then I suppose--

[He pulls his body in a little tighter, glancing around warily despite himself.]

-- that I'm gonna die.

[bywolves]

Yeah. You're going to, with an attitude like that.

[ He pulls in closer, shivering, staring down the hall. There's a pause - and then the voices start to get louder, and Royce's head snaps up. He stares down the hallway - and then he gets up and takes off. Bye. He's leaving. ]

[devoutish]

[Alfie swears under his breath, struggling to his feet. Sorry bud, he's sticking with you - as well as he can, anyway. Royce might be well ahead of him at this point.]

cw: cannibalism

[bywolves]

[ Royce runs, and he's out of sight almost immediately. Behind Alfie, the voices get louder and louder until suddenly they're upon him. A group of ragged and disheveled prisoners, a scattered collection of people more beast than human, cackle as they come around the corner and spot him.

Nice clothes, one of them says, and another giggles and comes up to yank at his shirt. Mine, she says, and a third one shoves Alfie, eyeing him. That same third one says, almost thoughtfully, take clothes, I want an arm. Leg.

A fourth one whispers right against Alfie's ear as they surround him like a pack of hyenas, giggling and yipping at him: meat good, you're going to taste good, fresh! ]

[devoutish]

[Well, fuck.

Alfie doesn't even have his cane, so he starts lashing out purely with his fists - aiming a kick here, a gut-jab there, and trying to grab two of their heads and knock them together hard.]

[bywolves]

[ The favorites are not full on brawlers - they're scrappy, and they're not used to people fighting back like this. Alfie's kick connects with the jaw of one of them and he yelps, knocked back a few steps. The two that have their heads knocked together fall back, dazed and nearly out, but the rest of them let out a series of angry, animalistic noises as they rush Alfie. They jump on him, all trying to knock him to the ground, to get on top of him and tear at his clothes and skin.

There are footsteps running down the corridor, just barely heard above the din. ]

[devoutish]

Royce!

[Alfie calls out, knowing it's probably hopeless - but maybe, maybe he'll get his memories back. He'd had them in other dreams. It's not impossible. He'll keep fighting too, though they do get him to the ground, and he loses a couple of sizable chunks of skin from his arms. Cannibals, honestly.]

[bywolves]

[ It's not impossible.

In fact, the footsteps get louder, and then all of a sudden, one of the girls with Alfie's arm in her mouth makes a noise like a kicked dog as she's knocked several feet away. There's confusion - a sharp rock comes down and stabs right through the neck of a Favorite that's trying to bite off Alfie's nose. The Favorite falls, and the rest of them shriek and scatter, trying to get away.

And then there's Royce, expression tense and upset as he tries to yank Alfie up. ]

Get up. You need to run. [ He's scared. He's really scared. ] You owe me so run, get up.

[devoutish]

Fucking hell, Royce--

[Is this regular Royce? Memory Royce? It's hard to tell - actually helping him would indicate yes, but "you owe me" indicates no. Regardless, he stumbles to his feet, stumbling as he tries to break into a run.]