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You Think I Think I.... — StrangerVille

You Think I Think I....

Started by Emery Varley at 04 Mar, 2020 5:14 pm
May 25, 2020
447 Views
20 Posts

Played by Leo

Sim

"I'm looking for Rosalind Varley."


Those in town acted like Rosalind didn't exist, let alone acknowledge that they'd even hired her.  Locked out of her email, Emery didn't have proof to wave in their faces of the job offer she'd got that had her exclaiming in glee in a time that seemed so long ago now.  He wanted to scream.  Grab them tight by the shoulders and shake so hard their teeth rattled and they just gosh damn admitted that they had done something to his sister.  Just thinking about it had him gritting his teeth and digging blunt nails into the fabric of his shirt.  Squeeze, dig, he could feel little crescents being left in his skin, his infuriation at those just not willing to help bubbling in his chest.  Just where was the compassion in the world; where were those willing to help their fellow sims out in a time of need?  Perhaps they thought that nonchalance would convince him to give up his personal quest to locate his missing sibling and go away.  To leave and to stop prying into business that didn't concern him.  He wasn't a Strangerville native - he didn't understand the nuances of small town life.  Perhaps they thought the same of his Rosalind - that she was just some city girl who was too big for the red sandy town who probably just went back to the big city where she belonged.

Eyes dropped closed, he tried to let the hum of the engine soothe him.  He was somewhere between drifting off and staying angry when he caught Dax talking to him again.  Not small talk, either.  Further acknowledgement that Emery wasn't going mad.  Shuffling on his seat to sit a little more upright, he cracked one eye open and watched Dax with curious scepticism as he talked about was going on beyond the steel door that hid all of Emery's answers.  "Rosalind's always had a conscience," he grumbled at Dax, aggrieved that the man was lumping his sister in with those other lab-coated slimy science nerds.  The trial off at the end, however, was not a soothing balm as the other words had been.  "She's not dead."  Even in his worn out state, caught up in his own suffering, Emery said those three words with determination.  "I went in there - she has to be behind that big door."  Might as well let out his beans, spill them for this Samaritan in the rain.

Warming up just a little now, he loosened up those tight limbs.  Fingers raked through his hair, the mulberry clumps sticking at odd ankles.  He couldn't go back now, he was too soaked through and tired.  He doubted Dax would turn the car around if he asked; he doubted Dax would turn the car around if he pleaded; he doubted Dax would turn the car around if he made a leap from the moving vehicle.  Tilting his head to look at him fully, he pondered just how much more help this grumpy looking guy would be.  "Thanks," he murmured.  "You're the first person who hasn't just shot me down and told me to go away."  There was a bunch of strange equipment in the trailer - perhaps he could get a few of those listening devices from Erwin and plant them onto the lab coats.  "How come you know they're up to stuff?  You don't look exactly like the other military types that I've seen wandering around.  The one's in black even stole my refrigerator!"  



Played by WASD

Sim
shooter guy

“They did what?” Dax snorted bitterly. “Idiots”. So that was how they kept things under control? This was why he hadn’t believed it one bit. Probably half the population of Strangerville was infected by now, one didn’t even need to touch the fruit, being too close to a plant when it ejected spores was enough, the rest depended on one’s immune system. Didn’t take an egghead to figure that out. The motherplant was doing whatever it wanted, no matter how many fridges those dumbasses quarantined. “I used to be one of them back when they… did other crappy experiments,” Dax answered. There was no point in hiding it. Not that someone like Emery could use this information against him anyway. Honestly, the man secretly wanted someone to try and use something against him, his fights were all one-sided lately it was almost boring. Clean sniper kills had that deadly refinement Dax enjoyed, but something shooting back occasionally would have been fun. “Not anymore. I have other sources now, so I don’t have access to personnel records, or the key”, and thus he couldn’t help Emery, right? Damn it.

Dax had never been a hero. There were good soldiers, they followed orders and became heroes. And there were soldiers like Dax, who followed orders and survived. ‘Can’t save them all’ was a statement he felt very convenient to get behind. And yet there had always been someone like this: civilians caught in the middle of chaos, scared shitless, pleading, looking the blood-covered soldier in his red glowing eyes like he was some kind of messiah sent from heaven. And at those moments that bit of humanity the vampire still had, however tiny it was, screamed at him. And sometimes Dax went with it, other times he ignored it. It was easier done within the math of war which operated in four-digit numbers and up, sacrificing hundreds here for thousands there and thousands there for millions somewhere else. A bunch of innocent casualties were no more than a margin of error. But now, it was just him, one drenched sad punk on the passenger seat and one egghead girl with conscience that might or might not be dead somewhere out there. And suddenly Dax couldn’t math.

“Rosalind”, he muttered thoughtfully. They said knowing the victim’s name helped. Well, they said it about serial murderers and rapists, oops, but maybe it worked as well on creepy half-occult shits like Dax. Apparently Emery wasn’t giving up on his sister just yet. A former agent digging it up through S.I.M.S channels wouldn’t go unnoticed, and Dax would rather keep his freelancer status. Maybe he could just keep an eye on Emery while he was doing his own investigation. Pfff… Ok, first things first. “You have heating in your trailer, yes?” Because, speaking of that immune system thing, Emery had better not catch a cold in this town.


The mission is critical with volition political
I could question it but I ain’t feeling too analytical



Played by Leo

Sim

"I'm looking for Rosalind Varley."


Emery couldn't stop the horrified expression sweeping up and over his face.  This guy - this stranger that had picked him up off the side of the road - knew what was going on.  He could have helped Rosalind.  She had started doing something contrary to the orders of her science fellows, he knew that much, otherwise she wouldn't have the stacks of paperwork filled with incomprehensible notes, or setting up whatever the mad equipment was if she hadn't been trying to understand and get to the bottom of something well beyond her own pay grade.  He should have helped her...And yet, Emery knew he wasn't omitting the truth about knowing of her more than a 'girl with a dog'.  If he didn't know what she had been trying to do, then how could he have offered her any help.  He wasn't even offering Emery help, and the words spilling out of him gave the game away that Em was well and truly going to dig as deep as he possibly could into whatever the mystery in Strangerville was.  At least he wasn't talking Emery out of it.  That in of itself was welcome enough, even if he was saying he didn't have access to resources to help.

Her name on some else's lips though.  That broke him.  Crumpling forwards as far as the seat belt would allow, Em pulled up his arms to cocoon himself in the sanctuary of his elbows.  Fingers sunk into the mess of damp pink hair at the nape of his neck.  He could hear the protest of the arms of his glasses against his forearms and feel the way they tilted on the bridge of his nose.  Soggy and morose, Emery wasn't used to feeling like this.  Helpless and adrift with the sound of engine and car heaters mixed with the pulse of blood in his ears.  Those people in black had taken his sister, her dog, and his refrigerator, and here was some stranger saying her name out loud for the first time since he'd moved to this out of the way town.

Not only that, but this guy was now asking about heating?  Disentangling himself from his limbs, Emery looked up at him with askew glasses and confusion on his face while he processed the question posed to him.  A look out of the windscreen and he could see the glow of the few street lights dotted around the trailer park coming up ahead.  They must have already passed Old Penelope somewhere without him noticing.  "I've never had to use it," he admitted, thinking of whether he'd even tried the thermostat in the creaky trailer.  He didn't spend too much time there if he could, it was filled with too many of his sister's things.  He hadn't moved her clothes out of the closet and was instead still living out of a suitcase and making use of a chair-robe instead.  A desert town, it was too warm during the day to be cooped up in a metal box, and Emery liked the cool evenings.  He'd quickly learned not to sleep with any windows open.  Firstly; bugs.  Secondly; there were some weird noises at night that were more unsettling than terrifying.  Processing it further, he realised he would have to find out.  It was warm inside the car, but he was not guaranteed warmth in his trailer.  He'd yet to have any hot water problems either, but for one lone sim he doubted he could use enough hot water for the tank to complain.

Untangling from himself even further, he sat upright once more.  "Will you come look at some of the things she left behind?" he asked, almost regretting the way his voice had a creak to it that made him sound like a sad, lonely little puppy.  "If you worked with them, maybe you'll understand it better than me."  A pause, licking his lips and looking down and away from Dax and at the trailers getting ever closer.  "Please...?"  Oh yeah, that one just sounded awfully sad.  He had to droop at that, but he wasn't going to find his sister alone and here was someone offering more than Erwin's crazy conspiracies. 



Played by WASD

Sim
shooter guy

Dax squinted at Emery, a wry expression settling in his features once again. That was it, that was one of those sickeningly unambiguous situations that always got the man disproportionately conflicted. It was obvious enough that Emery was dying to find out what had happened to his sister with all that highly dramatic yet genuine performance of all the desperate gestures and poses one could manage on the limited stage of a car seat. And now the guy was directly asking for Dax’s help, in that sad helpless tone. Fuck. Say no – congratulations, Dax, you’re an asshole! Say yes – you are in over your head. Well, likely he was the only person around who could afford getting in over his head and not lose it in the process. Maybe Emery got lucky there. Maybe not.

The twenty first century normalized the concept of sufficient quality, something Dax found exceptionally comforting. Doing enough was enough. He’d been doing enough for over a century now, balancing between orders and survival, doing enough for those whom he owed his present existence to, enough for himself to continue the said existence. Paradoxically, as much as the ex-vampire needed to play loose with rules, as much he needed somebody to set them in the first place. It was a constant fight for freedom he didn’t really want, nor knew what to do with. That’s probably why he wasn’t trying too hard, but just enough. Right now Dax knew enough of what was going in Strangerville not to freak out at infected townsfolk, he paid enough attention to have noticed Rosalind had been in that trailer. Picking up Emery and driving him back home was supposed to be enough display of neighborly attitude for Dax to feel human. Well, human enough.

Come to think of it, the whole deal likely wasn’t going to be too difficult. Get in, get the girl, dead or alive, get out. A few doors kicked in, a few faces punched, maybe a couple of shots fired - Dax would actually enjoy that more than he cared to admit. And if he helped this little weird family in the process, well, wouldn’t be the first time he was a hero in somebody’s book, not that it mattered. None of that could ever fix what he’d done to his own family. He used to have a sister too, two in fact. It was a long, long time ago.

“Alright,” the man finally said. Dax wasn’t much of a detective, but probably it would help to figure out what it was the girl was working on and at what point precisely things had gone south for her. The car stopped in front of Emery’s trailer. “If it’s cold…” Dax stumbled unsure what exactly he was going to say. He wasn’t inviting the guy to his trailer, that’d be too much neighborly crap for one evening. “… don’t die,” because anything the ex-vampire could say would probably come down to just that anyway.


The mission is critical with volition political
I could question it but I ain’t feeling too analytical



Played by Leo

Sim

"I'm looking for Rosalind Varley."


Four metal walls was what he was calling home now.  The little white fence surrounding the AstroTurf of a garden.  Random collection of gnomes cavorting in the rain.  Park table covered with waterlogged potted plants.  It was very much Rosalind's decor taste, but he'd tried to add in a few hints of his own.  Some nights he liked to hang out on the trailer's steps with his guitar on his lap and strum chords.  None of the neighbours complained about the weird musician singing to himself at night.  Far away from the city, the quiet nights were something that Emery had begun to enjoy about the quirky desert town.

Tonight though it was gloomy and wet and as unwelcoming as the first time he'd dragged approached the trailer.  All the lights were off inside, mimicking that night.  Staring at it through the windscreen of Dax's car, a faint shudder ran down his spine, sinking all the way down into his boots.  He could really use a stiff drink and a warm towel.  Shame that all there was in the trailer was a shower, he'd love to sink into a hot bath right up to his nose and wait out until the clarity of morning came.

With a huff, he pushed open the door of the car and extracted himself from the seat belt before clambering back out into the rain.  "You can come in," he offered as he pushed the door shut behind him and then quickly trotted up to the door of the trailer.  Huddling under the awning to protect from the rain he fished the keys out of his pockets.  The collection of oddities he kept on the keychain put up a fight coming out of the soggy denim, but he eventually managed to get the door open.

It was cool inside.  He turned on all the lights, illuminating every inch of the trailer.  The interior was worn;swatches of paint on one wall as if someone was in the process of finding suitable colour to cover up the faded and ugly wallpaper.  Small dining table contained a pink lava lamp and a punk sticker covered laptop.  Single bed tucked in the far corner that hadn't been made that morning, next to which sat Emery's faithful friend - his guitar.  Opposite the bed, however, was a desk upon which was a collection of electronics and screens that surely couldn't belong to a mohawk sporting musician.  In messy piles around the legs were stacks of papers and files; the combined collection of Rosalind's remains and Emery's meagre attempts at researching what had happened to his beloved sibling.

Turning back to the doorway, Em checked to see what decision Dax had made in whether he'd come in and help, or had instead sped off into the night. 



Played by WASD

Sim
shooter guy

Dax thought he’d give Emery some privacy to do whatever it was he needed to do not to die first, and come back later. But why the hell not, might as well get started, not that the man had anything else to do. If not for the damn storm he’d still be in Del Sol Valley thinning the herd of his former kind (a pointless endeavor, come to think of it). So Dax turned off the engine, slowly walked around the car giving Emery time and space to get the door open and followed him inside. The brown eyes quickly scanned the perimeter once the lights were on taking notice of everting worth taking notice of. One thing made him frown - a terracotta pot with what clearly wasn’t Emery’s little weed plantation. So the agents took the fridge but left this thing inside? Dax rolled his eyes and without saying a word or asking for permission grabbed the pot and went outside to take it to a presumably safe distance from the idiot’s home, then went back in.

The trailer was tiny, old and worn down. Dax’s own dwelling wasn’t much bigger or fancier, but it was newer and as facelessly neat outside and out as his car. He could afford a house or a nice apartment if he ever got bold enough to move into Storm’s territory, but he never felt like it. People needed room and comfort for different reasons and purposes and none of them Dax could relate to. He spent his money on food, booze and keeping his toys up-to-date. Well, also occasional fines and damages. Bills and taxes too. Despite being technically a fiend, the ex-vampire was overall a decent citizen. “Where did you live before this?” he wondered aloud. The place could seem fitting for someone like Emery, but as it had turned out it used to be his sister’s and hardly ever more than a temporary arrangement.

If anything there held answers about Rosalind’s unfortunate story, it was the listening station on the desk - didn’t take long for Dax to recognize what this installation of tech served for. So the girl hadn't just seen the light one day and slammed the door. She was actively digging for trouble, so now wonder the trouble eventually found her. The man moved to the desk to see what data could be salvaged from it. In the meantime he nodded on the guitar by the bed. “You do that for a living?” he asked with a note of disbelief in his voice. Dax wasn’t the guy to assign any kind of value to music. Usually he didn’t mind it, mostly he didn’t pay attention to it. Being a musician seemed weird to him, giving money to a random guy making music – even weirder.


The mission is critical with volition political
I could question it but I ain’t feeling too analytical



Played by Leo

Sim

"I'm looking for Rosalind Varley."


A small glimmer of hope broke out in chest at the sight of Dax marching up to his little den of hope.  Bright and tight, twisting around his ribcage and burrowing neatly into his heart.  Someone out there was willing to help him.  Someone wasn't just saying pleasantries and then turning him away.  Dax believed him and was willing to help him.  It was the most reassuring thing to have happened to him for days.  This guy looked like he could march into that facility in the crater, burst through that large steel door like some kind of action hero and come out carrying Emery's beloved sister in his arms while cool explosions went off behind him.  He'd hand over her unconscious body, limp but not lifeless, and then drive the three of them home in his car after doing some sick skids and flipping the bird through the window as they roared off into the desert together.

It would be glorious.

Beforehand, however, they actually had the parts that the movies always cut out, or made into a montage to do.  The research.  The proof.  The plan.  Which meant deciphering what Rosalind had left behind.  Emery barely understood any of it; academics had not been his strong suit.  Science was Ros' world.  She was the one with the degree; she was the one with the fancy job. 

Well, it had been fancy before she'd gone missing....

Closing the door behind his guest, Emery watched him curiously move about the small space.  A protest started up in his throat when Dax threw out his little project.  "Hey, Erwin sold me that," spluttered when Dax walked back inside.  Erwin and his little curio shop.  He was full of delightful conspiracy stories and for a few bucks he'd sold Emery this weird looking fruit but had recommended to not eat it.  Emery had let it sit on his counter for a few hours, studied it while he tried to work out just what to do with it.  A few of Ros' scribbles had mentioned plants and growing things in different types of soil, so he'd taken her advice and bought himself a little plant pot and some soil and tried his best to get the thing to grow.  It was small; smaller than the strange glowing buds that seemed to be dotted around the town, but Emery had treated it like a pet for the few weeks he'd been nurturing it.  It had become a sort of routine; grounding him when he felt adrift.  All his questions to Erwin about it, however, just brought out crazier conspiracy theories from him.  The one constant the guy implored was that Emery was to not eat it.  So Emery hadn't.  And now Dax had gone and just removed it.

Still, he wanted to trust Dax's judgement.  If his creepy potted plant needed to be outside, then that was what needed to be done.  Leaving Dax to browsing (and hopefully not throwing out anything Emery actually needed, like his clothes) Emery turned to head for the shower to try and bring his body temperature back up from the freezing point it was dipping towards.  He answered the question about his living arrangements before closing the door to the bathroom behind himself.  "San My."

Emery was a city boy.  Always had been.  His father had lived in a luxury apartment that overlooked a beautiful park where his step mother had taken Rosalind and himself to play when they'd been small.  There was a small age difference between Em and his little sister.  Aidan Varley had managed a quick divorce, kept sole custody of their son, and quickly moved on with his life without giving his little boy chance to cope.  As he pulled off the wet clothes and stepped into the steam of the shower, an old thought arose in Em's mind about the length of time between the leaving of his mother and the replacement by his step mother.  His father would never admit it were Emery to accuse him, but perhaps the reason his mother had left had been because his father hadn't been the most faithful of husbands.

Dwelling on it now wouldn't solve anything.  The important thing was that it had given Emery his perfect little sister, and she needed him now.  Wherever she was, it was up to Emery and the help of the creepy army dude to come to her rescue.

Speaking of the guy, he'd left him to his own devices for about twenty minutes now while he'd let the warm spray soak into his skin.  Leaving the shower he grabbed a towel to wrap about his waist and another to start patting dry his hair.  Leaving the little bathroom he came back to the main area to see Dax rifling through Ros' notes.  She wrote quick and snappy, often short hand.  Her collection of recorded tapes made for strange listening; most of them were static or the sounds of a microphone muffled in fabric.  Some were snippets of conversations too scientific for him to follow along.  He could grasp more talk of plants sometimes, however.  A lot were of Rosalind herself; talking theories or planning her work.  Those were the hardest to listen to.  The pain sunk in deep whenever he'd tried to play anything that came in Ros' crisp, clear tone.

The mention of his guitar, though, had him grinning.  "Yeah," he admitted, crossing the room to drop his weight down on the bed.  Draping the towel he'd been using to dry his hair over his shoulder, he lifted his beloved from their stand and settled it onto his lap, fingers gliding a strum over the string.  He was still damp, but his hair no longer sagged in a wet mop atop his head, and his torso revealed the ink patterns artfully decorating his skin.  Above them, the rain hammered on the roof.  "It's fun; being able to affect someone's emotions just by the tune you play is really freeing," he admitted, plucking a jaunty little upbeat jingle.  "In San Myshuno I'd have this spot where I liked to play; it's great when the flea market is running.  Music is whatever you need it to be."  He looked up from his guitar and over to Dax, studying him now by the florescent lights of the trailer.  He'd left his glasses in the bathroom, and could just about make out the shape of the other man from the distance they were apart.  Everything was coloured shapes to Emery right now.  "Did you find anything in her notes?"



Played by WASD

Sim
shooter guy

San My. It was indeed a good place for someone like Emery. Despite the general overpopulation, and vampiric overpopulation in particular, it was safer, just because Storm kept a strict no-murder policy. Who would think vampires preferred comfort and infrastructure of a modern city and not ancient manors with coffins and shit. There were those who preferred the latter, of course, but those were batshit crazy old creeps or young freaks who thought it made them special. Emery would make a pathetic vampire - the guy was more of an easy prey type. Dax wouldn’t be surprised if there was quite a number of times Emery turned around the corner and then woke up on the ground a dozen of minutes later not quite remembering how he got there and where that hangover came from.

While Emery was reanimating himself in the bathroom, Dax was browsing through his sister’s findings. The girl had been thorough, like a good egghead should be. It was a bit messy though, which often came with minds that ran too fast. Rosalind would be something of genius Dax assumed. The man took a thick folder from the desk, flipped through it, then shook the content out and started sorting through the messy pile of papers, photos, audio transcripts, organizing it in consistent order. For the record, Dax hated paperwork.

Emery finally showed up from the back of the trailer, wrapped in a towel. From what the ex-vampire could sense, the guy’s vital signs improved, same as his mood. For a few seconds he stared at the tattoos covering Emery’s skin. Wow, that was impressive. He’d had to tolerate a lot of pain to get those. Dax had couple of those – nothing nearly as artistic though - from back when he was a mortal…umm, fully mortal. There was that Jane… Joan? Whatever, fuck codenames anyway. They were friends sort of, she thought they could be more, it was stupid. The last thing you wanted on a mission is to get all bothered when someone started plucking another agent’s eyes out in front of you. Dax had known better since then. That was not the point. The point was Emery’s ink was something else. Along with this crazy hair of his it would make the dork a very distinct missing person, or an easily identifiable corpse.

Dax turned back to sorting through files, half-listening to Emery playing with his guitar and talking about music. “If you say so”.  To affect someone’s emotions that one had to have those in the first place or give enough damn about them.  If it was helping Emery somehow, good for him, Dax didn’t need the guy freaking out on him now. “I don’t mind music”.

“An impressive collection of compromising materials on your sister’s employer and Strangerville’s officials,” Dax placed the folder on the corner of the desk and tapped his finger on it. “Useless”. That was the girl’s mistake, thinking that there was some sort of authority out there that could put an end to what was going in the labs. “Police, military, S.I.M.S are all in on it. The best you can do with it is make some noise in the media or blackmail someone. I’d say aim high and go for that asshole the mayor if you choose to. Up to you”. Dax was a pragmatic man, he would totally approve. As for the girl… “Nothing there about where your sister could go or how to get in the lab, we’ll need to find another way in”. Wait. Did he just say we? Fuck… guess it was his mission now.


The mission is critical with volition political
I could question it but I ain’t feeling too analytical



Played by Leo

Sim

"I'm looking for Rosalind Varley."


The problem with some folks was that they didn't think things like the occult actually existed.  Vampires that roamed the night to feast upon the blood of poor innocent souls made for good television, but to Emery that was all that they were - fiction.  Entirely oblivious and unaware that those he milled about with on the streets of San Myshuno might have a very specific dietary requirement...That included Emery.  He didn't know about secret portals in Glimmerbrook; heck he'd never even been to Glimmerbrook.  Aliens were just nonsense that Erwin would spout on days that he wasn't theorising that all the scientists in the town were out to get him, and that the black van parked across from his shop hadn't moved in weeks.  No, for Emery the only freaks and weirdos were just every day folks that lived in the big city but he was absolutely certain none of them were actual vampires.

He made a very good vampire, however.  Won three fancy dress contests one Halloween and he hadn't even entered one of them.  He'd really grown out his mohawk for that night, and had a set of prescription sunglasses so he could still see where his drink was.

Someone had joked he'd make a very pretty corpse...

"You never had someone write you a love~ song?" he asked, drawling out a 'ooo' sound, plucking the beginning of 'You Are So Beautiful' on his guitar before he forgot how the rest of the song went and turned it into just random chords.  "My sister was always my biggest fan - she wasn't very musical, because, well..." he gestured to the piles of documents and the folder Dax had chosen to start with to highlight what had been Rosalind's chosen passion.  In place of being able to recognise a tune, Rosalind could recognise patterns in complex micro-organisms.

While she was able to enter his world, through Emery's ability to share music with her, the same couldn't be said for Emery being able to enter her world.  He was always stuck on the outside looking in; like a small child with their nose pressed up against the toy shop window.  He'd wanted so much to be able to understand what it was she did, even more so now that she was missing and surely needed her big brother's help.  Help was here, at least Emery had thought so, until Dax spoke that word and he repeated it meekly: "Useless...?"  How could it be useless?  The cleverest person he had ever known had made those notes, surely it wasn't as bad as that?

With a ragged sigh, Emery stopped playing and hugged his guitar in closer to his chest.  Blackmail...He couldn't really do that, could he?  The mayor - he was pretty shady.  Had given Emery quite the stink eye when he'd tried to talk to him.  He also sometimes wandered through the trailer park at night when the clouds would gather strangely over the crater where the lab sat within.  It was inside that lab - through that door - that they needed to go, and during his momentary sulk it seemed that Dax was already on that page and several chapters ahead.  Looking up at him with wet green eyes (no, he was not going to start crying, as he steeled his jaw), Emery tried to judge the expression on his face that was, for lack of glasses, mainly a blur.  "I got in tonight," he admitted, finally putting an explanation as to why he'd been on that particular bridge outside of the town.  "But it's just empty - an abandoned reception.  But there's this door, like the kind you'd see in Evil Lairs in spy movies."  Big; looming; a monolith of an immovable object.  "You mean we need to get through that, don't you?"

That was where they needed to go; deeper into the belly of the beast.



Played by WASD

Sim
shooter guy

A love song? Dax glanced at Emery with a mix of disbelief and amusement in his expression. That was stuff meant for that ridiculously complicated mating ritual called wooing. Which basically meant getting to fuck someone who wasn’t entirely sure they wanted to be um… wooed. Dax got used to dealing with less complicated ways and surer women. And if someone ever decided to woo him – well, whoever it was, they deserved better.

Dax had to admit Emery was holding up pretty well. The dork visibly deflated realizing assembling a pile of evidence pieces together didn’t miraculously open a magical portal to his sister, but at least he didn’t throw a tantrum over it. Aha! “Yeah, I figured,” the ex-vampire snorted slightly, then turned on his chair and leaned closer to Emery’s face. “So you saw what state it’s in. Do you think this is what a secret laboratory should look like?” Well, apparently the music guy didn’t have much experience with secret labs, but what Dax meant – no, it shouldn’t look anything like that. Breached perimeter, piles of documents and lamely locked computers, nope.

“Obviously, they lost control over whatever they were doing in there, like they always do with their experiments. And then they lost every ounce of their shit with it, if they didn’t even bother to properly cover their fuckup.” Which also meant the eggheads were likely not lying to Emery and had precisely no idea what had happened to the dork’s sister. “That door’s there to keep things in rather than keep anyone out, so it won’t be too hard to get past it. Officials same as scientists, and even the idiots in black suits, they are all scared shitless and want someone to solve their little contagious problem. You just need to convince them you can do it,” and with that Dax pointed his finger at the towel-clad punk in front of him. That was the part where Emery was supposed to violently freak out, so the man paused for a bit.

Of course he didn’t mean Emery had to actually solve the problem, he just needed to convincingly pretend he knew what he was talking about. Dax didn’t want to directly interfere and ruin this lovely little peace he’d arranged for himself. But if Emery did the investigation, and Dax conducted surveillance, it could work. The ex-vampire still wasn’t sure why he was doing it, but… “I can help, but you do what I say, understand?” It was kind of a void question because apparently Emery didn’t have many options to turn to with his quest. “Meet me in 8 Bells tonight,” Dax stood up and headed for the door, then stopped for a second tilting his head and giving Emery an assessing look, “and wear something tight”.


The mission is critical with volition political
I could question it but I ain’t feeling too analytical