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Post by Jack on Dec 15, 2012 0:40:37 GMT -8
It wasn't that Jack had ignored her he merely had been preoccupied between him drawing and then talking about Marcus he sort of forgot to introduce himself.
"Friend" his voice trailed away as he looked at the girl it was obvious that she was turning red but was it the alcohol or something else was up for debate. He merely shrugged it off, it could be the alcohol it was weak but she was a girl and by default couldn't drink to save her life in his eyes. "It's interesting that the loner actually has friends." his voice hung on the final word again.
His eyes moved down to look at his arm which was entirely covered where skin would usually be shown between the end of his sleeve to his wrist was bandaged. "Honestly I don't know what caused it, there were many different things. But the concept sort of hasn't change. You get sick, they treat you" he knew that wouldn't be enough. If it was a guy he would shrug say fair enough and continue drinking. He would offer to show her but that would require privacy.
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Post by Delilah A. Black on Dec 15, 2012 1:07:41 GMT -8
"It's interesting that the loner actually has friends."
The way his tone dragged on the same word she had forced made her rethink pushing away her drink. She scooped the glass back into her hands, knocked it back in one go and set it back down with a loud -clink-. She waited for about eight seconds, waiting to feel the buzz. Nope. Nothin'.
"Honestly I don't know what caused it, there were many different things. But the concept sort of hasn't change. You get sick, they treat you"
She pursed her lips thoughtfully, a small crease forming between her eyebrows. "I actually know a thing or two about medicine. Herbal stuff mostly, I'm not much of a healer, " She thought back to the knives placed all over her person, how the long sleeves of her shirt hid her many scars. Quite the opposite, really, "I could have a look if you like."
The moment the words left her mouth, Delilah realized her severe lack of judgement. If hrs had been using his injury as bait, she had just taken it. She bit down on her lower lip after a moment, glowering at her now empty glass. Maybe I am drunk.
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Post by Jack on Dec 15, 2012 6:01:49 GMT -8
"I could have a look if you like." Jack shrugged "There's room out back" he motioned with his chin to the staff area that opened up to a loading bay. "That is of course. If the offer still stands." he spoke in a almost coy tone.
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Post by Delilah A. Black on Dec 15, 2012 19:32:57 GMT -8
"There's room out back"
"That is of course. If the offer still stands."
Delilah managed to keep her expression neutral while she internally fought herself. Every ounce of her natural cautious nature told her that this was, perhaps, not the best of ideas. She didn't know this man very well and she had seen him fight with all the lethality of a seasoned predator. There was also something about him, not in how he spoke or his words or the manner in which he held himself...but there was a void there, a certain lack of something that made the small hairs on the back of her neck prickle.
But she didn't know this man. And for that, she would give him the benefit of the doubt.
Jesus, I hope I know what I'm doing...
The corners of her mouth turned upward slightly as she slid off her chair. "Of course. Lead on."
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Post by Jack on Dec 15, 2012 22:00:53 GMT -8
That void, that Delilah would feel was baseline lack of compassion and any value of human life. He saw cattle everywhere he went, just more sacks of blood for slaughter. He hated this world and from the deepest depths of his soul wished for this world to burn. All that being said he knew now was not the time, every day he just waited, honed his skills and recovered one day when the time was right the phoenix would rise from the ashes of his passed life and bring the world down in a fiery inferno of pain and suffering that would last a hundred generations. Of course he would have to live that long and who knows it was very probable he would be dead long before then.
Jack nodded and stood up picking up his coat and Jacket which was hung on the back of his chair (I sort of forgot to mention that but oh well) and walked toward the door that was to the left of the bar. Holding the door open for Delilah they would open up into a large concrete room. It had roller doors toward the back where trucks could come in, to their left was a staff room and to their right was the storage area for all the alcohol. He moved to a crate and dumped down his jacket and coat. Removing the clip from his cleaver he dumped that down as well, well out of reach from where he decided to sit.
It was a plastic crate, grimacing he removed his shirt the sleeves had been rolled up. It was a white shirt turned grey due to dust and grime. Clean clothes were something rare these days. Slowly he undid the clips that bound his bandages together. They fell loose, slowly he unraveled the bandages on his left arm. At first his skin would look bright pink, maybe a rash but as he continued to unravel more and more it became apparent this wasn't just a rash. His skin was flaking, almost peeling off like a very bad sun burn. New skin was growing underneath like one would expect from a burn victim, but he had not been burned. What was actually happening was Jack's cells were rapidly dividing and replacing cells. Skin cells were dying and being replaced same with muscle and tissue. This was at an accelerated rate due to the chemicals pumping through his system.
The faint outline of his old tattoos could be seen over his body, where his arm had previously been tattooed like the front leg of a wolf, in truth when he was naked previously he looked like a werewolf.
If Delilah helped him remove his bandages particularly around his back she would see the dried blood from the cuts he sustained earlier. The cut had already begun to close but in the place of a normal scab there was this black goo, oozing from the wound. It smelled horrible but it was like sap from a tree. further inspection of his body would see all these lumps where he had been cut and the black goo had hardened over. Furthermore there would be scars where they had been removed.
His torso was a mess, scars where he had been stabbed, slashed, where bullets had penetrated his skin but they were not like a normal scar. They were faint and almost growing fainter the longer she looked at them. Jack's body was going through a forced regeneration. The consequences of misuse were a rapidly shortened life span however this was almost nullified by the introduction of the new unnamed bio agent which acted as a support mechanism for injuries.
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Post by Delilah A. Black on Dec 15, 2012 22:55:16 GMT -8
Delilah followed him into the staff room, nodding as she passed him. Her eyes made a quick search of the room: ceiling and tops of the racks, below, around any corners she saw. She had to satisfy her caution somehow.
She turned back as Jack started taking off his shirt with what looked like a bit of discomfort. She sighed inwardly: damn her compulsion to help. Moving over to where he was, she would begin helping him in removing his shirt, the bandages around the back of his neck...
First, she noticed the state of his skin, like he was...shedding. Then, as she set her jaw and went ahead with helping him remove his bandages, she began noticing the smell. It wasn't dirty bandages or old sweat or mold. It was cloyingly sweet, like decay. The scent of rot. Of death.
Then she saw the scabs and her blue eyes widened, hands shaking ever so slightly as she undid the last of his bandages. Taking a step back, she got a good look at him. At the black scabs where the smell was coming from (from INSIDE him she realized with a shudder), at the scars that were...fading? Under her eyes, his skin appeared to be writhing.
What...what ARE you? she thought with growing horror.
Swiftly, before he could see it (or at least too much of it), Delilah buried it. She stepped back towards him, looking thoughtful. Gingerly, she took his arm and lifted it, holding it in her oil stained palms at the wrist and the elbow, examining.
"...Aloe vera," she muttered after a moment. "For the peeling."
Her eyes moved further up his arm to his chest, looking at the black clots that made up his scabs. Those horrible bulges that weren't quite human. She pushed it down again and swallowed hard, ignoring the smell. He had known this would disturb her, of that she was sure. But why? For what purpose did he let her see this?
For now, she ignored it. "Evening primrose oil for the...uh, scabs. It'll help you process whatever your system is trying to get rid of faster." Should also take care of that smell... she added privately.
Her eyes wandered down to his abdomen, watching the old scars he had slowly fade, noticing the remnants of his old tattoos. The inside of her left wrist itched suddenly from the memory, where the scarred remains of her red-wing black bird tattoo was. Removing her hands from his, she absently touched this area with a grimace, forcing herself to keep her hands from shaking. This was wrong somehow. Very wrong.
"...was there anything you took or did to get this way?" she asked him, eyes still on his scarred, naked upper torso, unable to meet his. She didn't want to see the flat emptiness again. "Or maybe some kind of genetic...abnormality?"
Yes, that sounds better than 'defect'.
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Post by Jack on Dec 15, 2012 23:36:39 GMT -8
"I have been in and out of the operating room so many times it could have been any one of those visits" he nervously scratched his flaking arm "I rarely stayed at a local hospital it was always a company owned private hospital." he shrugged "I have been through ... over the years" he stopped as he was trying to explain what he had done.
He had killed children on command, women and innocent men. Went through physical training that was make the Spetsnaz cry. He was placed into a program with several other men. One test was they had to go one by one down a dark hallway which lead to a flight of stairs. The walls were covered with blood and the floor was slippery wet.
There was blood everywhere, the stench of rotting flesh and dead things filled the air he vomited as soon as he entered the building. Slowly he made his way down, nearly slipping down the stairs. When he got there he was waist deep in blood. He made his way through the basement and then found what he was looking for a blade, a flash light and a target ID he realized then and there that they all had the other person as a target and would have to kill or be killed. That's when he heard it the bark of dogs, they released dogs after them, not only would they have to find their target and kill them but also run away from dogs. Combined with the blood, the smell and everything else the test subjects usually went mad and entered a force fight or flight state.
"I have had certaintraining" he said at last after a long pause "and then rehabilitation more recently. The black goo came only after that" but the peeling and the flaking was earlier. I got very sick all of a sudden the chaplain thought it was poison. I was out of action with a fever for what must have been a week or two before recovering. That's when the bandages came in." he thought about it again "but this all happened after I was taken out again it was just a routine sweep of a building for some supplies before we were ambushed. They came out of no where, it was before the guns stopped working because when I came to it was a different month maybe even year." he shrugged "I was picked up by what I can only assume are his men. I nursed back to health and then set free." So that was it. The uneventful story of Jack O'Connor.
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Post by Delilah A. Black on Dec 19, 2012 22:39:02 GMT -8
Delilah listened closely as he spoke. Over time, her eyes would drift from his scarred, wrecked body and up to his face. He had her full attention as she followed every crease in his expressions, every pause, every far away look as he recalled a distant memory. Of all the things Delilah was good at, active listening was right up there with "stabbing people in the face".
Each thing he brought up prompted new questions and a growing sense of unease in the raven haired woman. He spoke of a 'company' that employed him...did that make him a merc? 'Rehabilitation' was mentioned as well, and that made her think someone liked what the saw during 'training' and decided to make him...better some how?
Then he said "his men" and her blood ran cold, her heart skipping a beat. Far off, in the back of her mind, she knew who he meant and it ignited cold fear in the pit of her stomach. As he mentioned his--or at least, she presumed was his--name, "Jack O'Connor", her heart began to race, pattering lightly against her rib cage. All the while, her face remained carefully neutral, thoughtful even.
Delilah hadn't been there for the attack on the school. She had been at home with Oliver when the bombs hit and they had taken shelter in the basement beneath the garage she owned. But she remembered the reports after she had made it to the Crow's marina. Remembered Kiyoshi's order. Even though she hadn't been there to witness it, it was spread throughout the Crows like wild-fire.
"Find me O'Connor and bring me his head!!!"
But she wasn't one hundred percent sure it was the same guy...there were plenty of people named O'Connor. And she wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt.
And as much as she didn't want to know, she had to find out. HAD to.
"...sorry, I must have missed something. You were picked up by whose men?"
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Post by Jack on Dec 19, 2012 23:32:51 GMT -8
Jack shrugged "I don't know, they gave me no names" again he scratched his arm "Between now and then I've only had contact with two sets of people and the Chaplin, when the world went to shit I was attacked as I had said earlier. Shot in the chest but it wasn't bullet it looked more like a dart but it felt like a bullet. I began to burn up, go dizzy, throw up everything you can think of. I only have vague memories of an operating table and then before I knew it I was up and about in a church. They said they found me naked on the side of the rode." he smirked at the image, many times he had found himself passed out drunk maybe that was what happened but he doubted it. "as I had said he helped me, fed me and treated my wounds and gave me fresh bandages" trying to think.
"The second time I was on patrol and we got ambushed no one survived at least I don't think they did. As I said earlier this took plce not long after I woke up and I can only assume it was maybe a few months after everything went to hell." He had a strong idea that it had something to do with Stein but he wasn't a hundred percent sure or more so he didn't want her to know. They had known about all his advanced training during the later half of his high school years all his psychological reworking but only two or three groups of people knew about that. He glanced up at her, she's uncomfortable he knew his blade was well out of reach but he was an unarmed specialist. "It could be a hand full of people, but I'm not one to speculate."
He picked up the first roll of bandages and began to wrap up his left arm "There are more powers in this world than you can imagine Delilah. It's not always black vs white. I can assure you that who ever this Barker is and what ever his goals are there are twenty others involved with it. No single person ever sits on the top of the food chain. Think about all kings and emperors they have generals, diplomats, other men and women of power. Then you have resistance" he glace up at her with a coy smile "even then you have different levels but one thing will never change there will always be some crack pot sitting in his or her basement scheming and plotting for power and domination." He finished bandaging up his left arm and progressed to his right.
"All I can say without a doubt is the person or people that did this to me have their own agenda. "
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Post by Delilah A. Black on Dec 22, 2012 2:59:03 GMT -8
Her shoulders dropped somewhat as he made it clear (at least, mostly,) that he wasn't connected to Barker. The mild flutter of panic ceased it's incessant tickle and she relaxed. As he regaled her with his thoughts on the matter, she took the other set of bandages and began wrapping them around his torso again by leaning closer and passing the bandage around his torso, working her way up.
The way he smiled as he mentioned "resistances" unsettled her though. Did he know who she was after all? Perhaps it hadn't been wise to give her real name.
"All I can say without a doubt is the person or people that did this to me have their own agenda. "
"No idea whom, though? Apart from the possibility of 'Stein'?" She shrugged and started to pass the bandage around his neck. "Then I suppose you'll just have to wait until your body adapts to whatever they put in you.
"Barker..." She paused for a moment in her rewrapping of his bandages as she seethed quietly. After a moment, she started up again. "He's a tyrant. He no doubt has people up there at the top with him. But if history is any indication, he'd probably kill them as soon as they stopped being useful...or were TOO useful."
Just her own private opinion.
"So long as there are people like that --and there always will be-- there will be those who rise up in adversity. That's human nature, as imperfect as it is.
"And I agree. Nothing is black and white."
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Post by Jack on Dec 23, 2012 21:56:08 GMT -8
He listened to her intently as they both worked together to bandaged himself back up. Her hands brushed over his skin and it felt quite queer she was gentle so there was little pain but it still didn't feel like him, it was as if her were in a shell. "I never caught your full name."Jack said eventually, looking up at her.
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Post by Delilah A. Black on Dec 23, 2012 23:07:59 GMT -8
She let the amicable silence form between them as they finished bandaging him up. Just as she started securing the bandage around his neck, he spoke.
"I never caught your full name."
She blinked, stepping back and connecting her eyes with his. She was silent for a moment before speaking again, not at all hesitantly, but perhaps a touch warily. "Delilah Black," her tone was even and friendly, a smile touching her lips.
But in this day and age, one couldn't be too careful.
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Post by Jack on Dec 24, 2012 0:07:22 GMT -8
Smiling "Jack O'Connor, pleased to make your acquaintance" He sighed as he checked his bandages once over. Starting form his neck and tracing his hand down his left side and then switching hands and checking his left side. Everything was secured tightly. "Thanks for your help" He said as he bandaged up his face, brushing his hair out of the way of his forehead.
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