LOG: Damian meets Lus and Sabbat
Who: Lus, Sabbat, Damian
What: Damian finds Lus and Sabbat and fails spectacularly to make friends despite inadvertently fixing Sabbat's leg.
Where: The hospital
When: A few days after Damian's arrival in Babylon, and after this thread.
Lus was used to hospitals, it must be said. He knew his way around them pretty well, and he knew generally where everything was. Given his... hobby, it was understandable that he was right at home in a place most people avoided on the principal that being there meant that they knew someone who was, or were themselves, ill or injured.
However, even being comfortable in such a place meant that one could find endless amusement there. Lus was starting to get sick of wandering the empty halls endlessly. He flopped down in some of the hard plastic seats at the front entryway to the hospital and sighed loudly. "We're gonna need to go get food soon," he observed aloud.
Sabbat, who was leaning against the wall and attempting to savour his last cigarette, looked up. "Damn right, mate."
He was used to going without food--the Smoke took away appetite very effectively--but this was just getting annoying.
"I'm nearly out of Marshmallows. And I need..." He paused, and pulled out his scalpel to flip it around his fingers. He didn't want to vocalize his need for eyes, whether it was in friendly company or no. After all, he knew well enough that as soon as they stopped being useful to one another, he and Sabbat would part company.
"Eyes?" Sabbat ventured. He couldn't pretend the other man's addiction didn't interest him, and at any rate, it kept his mind off his own.
Lus sighed and nodded, eyes focussed on the spinning silver blade. "Back home I'd've taken some by now..." He was cautious, yes, but even before he'd come here, he'd gone a number of weeks without them.
"Back home I'd have my fucking Smoke." Yes, the morphine was working, but it wasn't the same as a good pipe of Smoke.
The redhead snorted and shook his head. "That shit'll kill you, man." It was said without judgment, though, a simple statement of fact.
Sabbat grinned, obviously not taking offence at the statement. "Better that than the noose."
That brought out a laugh. Lus knew he was probably going to end his life just that way. "Amen to that." But until then...
By this time, Damian had worked out most of the car's controls and was cruising nicely around and often over the obstacles that littered the abandoned streets. That is, he cruised when he wasn't revved up to ramming speed and bowling for undead. That made the travel pretty awesome, though the front of the car was looking more and more like the months-old bottom of a butcher's slurry trough, and it was starting to make some disgruntled noises. Maybe there was an air intake system to keep it stable in the air or something. In any case, Damian kept an eye out for other living people as much as possible, not really caring where he went. He was beginning to wonder whether he would find anyone in a city this big, but finally, he spotted movement ahead, and it didn't lurch or shuffle at all. The young man's face broke into a grin and he gunned the engine. It wasn't quite as satisfying as the roar of a combustion engine, but it whirred and clicked and turned over, and it worked.
Lus paused a moment. "...You hear something?" he asked Sabbat, turning towards the doors. For a moment there he could swear he'd heard a car. Either the zombies had learned to drive--and they were screwed--or there was someone with a car.
Sabbat frowned. "Come to think of it...a sorta growling noise?"
If that's another type of creature...
Nodding, the redhead stood up, and looked out around the parking lot in front of the building. "I coulda sworn I heard..."
The source of the noise swung off the main street and came to a stop in front of the doors, still purring to itself even as a door opened and its occupant stepped out, peering eagerly at the hospital. Damian was pretty sure he wasn't imagining this, but then, he still wasn't entirely sure he wasn't in a coma. Better to be sure. He gripped a small weight in his right hand, just in case.
Lus grinned, and headed over to the car. "Nice wheels, man!" He acted his usual cheerful self and inspected the car, ignoring its driver nearly completely. If he looked, he'd want to take, and he couldn't deal with that right now, he really couldn't. No way to hold himself back.
Sabbat pushed himself away from the wall, grimacing as his injured leg took his weight. It didn't seem to be healing yet, and he was half-convinced he'd managed some sort of permanent damage.
Ah well. Go and see what's going on, then deal with that.
"Hey!" Damian greeted triumphantly, breaking into a wide grin himself. "So there are other people! Shit, I was starting to get really worried." The car, on inspection, would be revealed first as being filthy in the front, full of convenience store food in the back, and painted light metallic blue all over.
"Ooooh, you've got junk food!" Lus crowed happily. "And yeah, there are a bunch of us spread out, I think. There's a group," with really nice eyes, "off that way somewhere. Probably more than just the one. And Sabbat and me're staying here." He pointed to his companion. "I'm Lus."
Sabbat nodded at the new arrival, and took another drag of his cigarette. He was more interested, he has to admit, in the large metal... carriage-thing the man had arrived in.
What the hells is it?
Damian looked the way Lus had pointed, making a note of the buildings so he wouldn't forget. Weird names these two had... but, whatever. He nodded back to Sabbat, who looked like a creep, and extended his hand to Lus. "Damian Truwick. Help yourself to that stuff. I pretty much--ow." He looked down at his right leg, which had inexplicably started to hurt and was only getting worse. "God dammit." He looked between the two others accusingly, leaning on the car while he waited for an explanation.
Lus frowned at Damian when he cursed. "You okay, man?" He eyed the hood of the car, hoping against hope for something he could salvage, but there was nothing.
Sabbat was also staring at his own right leg, cigarette arrested halfway to his mouth. "What the fuck--?"
He should have expected this, really. He focused on Sabbat, irrationally pissed off at him. "It's you. What the hell happened to you?" Without waiting for an answer, he leaned over and pulled up the leg of his jeans to reveal the inflamed wound. Damian swore again.
Lus whistled. "Holy shit. That looks just like..." He glanced over at Sabbat. "No fucking way, man!" He was torn between being amazed and being scared absolutely shitless.
Sabbat raised his eyebrows and nearly dropped his cigarette when he saw the perfect copy of his own wound on the other man's leg. "You some sort of shape-changer?" he growled.
That's the last thing I need. Another fairy-tale monster who just happens to be real.
"Yes fucking way," Damian growled. "I didn't do this on purpose," he snapped at Sabbat. "This shit just happens to me. You got hurt, I got too close, now I get to suffer. Fuck. It was such a good day before this."
"Well, at least you picked the best place for it to happen in. We've got painkillers and bandages and shit inside. We've probably even got some morphine left." He thumbed over his shoulder at the rest of the hospital. "I'm fastest, I can have some stuff and be back in, like, five minutes. I know shit about first aid though," he warned.
Sabbat glared at the man and pulled out his razor. He was not in the mood for arguments with random strangers, even if they did somehow remove wounds. "Look. I don't know who the fuck you are, or why that just happened, but I ain't in the best of moods right now. So if you don't want to get your throat cut, back off."
Damian straightened up cautiously, captivated by the razor. "Okay, man. Just chill out. Believe me, I'm not happy about this, either. I'm gonna give you your space, and this'll go away, and it'll be cool." He didn't know how that worked, either, but it usually did.
Lus sighed and shook his head. "Yunno what? I'm gonna go get some painkillers all the same. Back in a tic. Don't kill each other." He headed back in at a sprint, heading for the pharmacists'.
Sabbat nodded to the stranger. "You do that."
Fuck, I need some Smoke! I thought I'd dealt with this.
"Yeah... can I do it inside, though? Looks like a big hospital." He didn't have to tell Sabbat that the wound hurt like hell, and he didn't feel like being stuck out here at night with zombies on the prowl, car or no car.
Lus spent a good while snooping around for proper painkillers, debating over several types, before grabbing them all, and running back towards the pair he'd left, hoping no one was dead--and at the same time hoping someone was so that he could take the eyes, put them in a jar, have them with him... He growled to himself a little. Fucking hell, he was going to go insane before this was over.
Sabbat frowned. If it was up to him, he wouldn't let the other man set foot inside the building, but he'd admit that Lus had some right to decide, seeing as he was the one who'd found the damn place. "Wait 'til he comes back. Then we'll talk."
"Fair enough." Damian made sure his weight was all on his left leg and leaned back against the car. He looked around for zombies while he waited, trying to ignore the pain.
Lus reappeared before too long, though slightly longer than the five minutes he'd promised. "Right. Painkillers." He tossed the little box to Damian. "So. What's the plan?"
Damian caught the box with his free hand--he still had his weight in the other--and nodded to Lus. "Thanks, man." He looked at Sabbat. He was the one with the issue, he could explain it.
Sabbat looked over at Lus, and gestured to the other man--Damian. "He wants to rest up inside. You trust him?"
I do, about as much as I trust anyone else in this sixdamned city--that is to say, not at all.
The redhead shrugged. "Guess so. No harm for now at least." And if Damian turned out to not be trustworthy, well, they had a whole damn city to get away from him in. And now that he knew there were cars about... Besides the sooner he was healed up the sooner he would leave. Lus didn't feel at all comfortable with having only one person in the group who didn't know. If he or Sabbat slipped up and mentioned eyes.... This new guy could potentially do something very not fun to him.
Damian was absolutely the last person to resort to violence, for obvious reasons, but Lus wasn't to know. The young man waited for confirmation that he was allowed in--for now, at least.
Sabbat dropped his cigarette and ground it out under his boot. His right boot. "S'pose so." He turned to Damian. "You try anything..." He made a slitting gesture across his throat.
No point in bothering to be nice to him, is there?
Lus rolled his eyes a little at Sabbat's threats, but didn't contradict them. "Come on in. We've got tons of room." He threw the newest member of their little group a sideways sort of a grin.
Like trying anything would be good for his own health. They really didn't get it. Damian sighed. "Right, thanks. I'll just get my bag and some food and find some dark corner to limp off to." He proceeded to do just that.
Sabbat rolled his eyes and took a vial of morphine and a syringe out of his pocket, moving back to lean against the wall again. He was getting better at this whole 'injecting' thing, but it still felt too... medical.
It's the only thing that's keeping you sane right now, mate. Who cares how it feels?
Lus slumped back into the chair he'd been in before, frowning a little. "Jesus Fuck. As great as it is to see another human... Just what I don't need." He grumbled and flopped back in his seat.
Damian, who was busy picking what he wanted out of the assorted junk in the back and stuffing it into his gym bag, didn't catch any of that. When he did close the car door and turn around, he did get the sense that he'd missed something, but he wasn't interested in pressing it. Damn. Why had he been so keen on finding people? They were just trouble. He tipped them a sarcastic salute and made his way into the building, grimacing at every other step.
Sabbat returned the other man's salute almost automatically, then injected the drug into his arm. Its effects were getting weaker, but it still gave him a release from the craving for Smoke. Which was something he needed.
"You really trust him?"
"Hell no. I don't trust anyone." He raised an eyebrow. He wasn't going to say why, Sabbat knew well enough. The only reason he'd confided in the other man was because they were sort of in the same boat.
Sabbat nodded, stuffing the syringe back in his pocket. "Clever. You don't trust me, and I don't trust you--works perfectly."
What: Damian finds Lus and Sabbat and fails spectacularly to make friends despite inadvertently fixing Sabbat's leg.
Where: The hospital
When: A few days after Damian's arrival in Babylon, and after this thread.
Lus was used to hospitals, it must be said. He knew his way around them pretty well, and he knew generally where everything was. Given his... hobby, it was understandable that he was right at home in a place most people avoided on the principal that being there meant that they knew someone who was, or were themselves, ill or injured.
However, even being comfortable in such a place meant that one could find endless amusement there. Lus was starting to get sick of wandering the empty halls endlessly. He flopped down in some of the hard plastic seats at the front entryway to the hospital and sighed loudly. "We're gonna need to go get food soon," he observed aloud.
Sabbat, who was leaning against the wall and attempting to savour his last cigarette, looked up. "Damn right, mate."
He was used to going without food--the Smoke took away appetite very effectively--but this was just getting annoying.
"I'm nearly out of Marshmallows. And I need..." He paused, and pulled out his scalpel to flip it around his fingers. He didn't want to vocalize his need for eyes, whether it was in friendly company or no. After all, he knew well enough that as soon as they stopped being useful to one another, he and Sabbat would part company.
"Eyes?" Sabbat ventured. He couldn't pretend the other man's addiction didn't interest him, and at any rate, it kept his mind off his own.
Lus sighed and nodded, eyes focussed on the spinning silver blade. "Back home I'd've taken some by now..." He was cautious, yes, but even before he'd come here, he'd gone a number of weeks without them.
"Back home I'd have my fucking Smoke." Yes, the morphine was working, but it wasn't the same as a good pipe of Smoke.
The redhead snorted and shook his head. "That shit'll kill you, man." It was said without judgment, though, a simple statement of fact.
Sabbat grinned, obviously not taking offence at the statement. "Better that than the noose."
That brought out a laugh. Lus knew he was probably going to end his life just that way. "Amen to that." But until then...
By this time, Damian had worked out most of the car's controls and was cruising nicely around and often over the obstacles that littered the abandoned streets. That is, he cruised when he wasn't revved up to ramming speed and bowling for undead. That made the travel pretty awesome, though the front of the car was looking more and more like the months-old bottom of a butcher's slurry trough, and it was starting to make some disgruntled noises. Maybe there was an air intake system to keep it stable in the air or something. In any case, Damian kept an eye out for other living people as much as possible, not really caring where he went. He was beginning to wonder whether he would find anyone in a city this big, but finally, he spotted movement ahead, and it didn't lurch or shuffle at all. The young man's face broke into a grin and he gunned the engine. It wasn't quite as satisfying as the roar of a combustion engine, but it whirred and clicked and turned over, and it worked.
Lus paused a moment. "...You hear something?" he asked Sabbat, turning towards the doors. For a moment there he could swear he'd heard a car. Either the zombies had learned to drive--and they were screwed--or there was someone with a car.
Sabbat frowned. "Come to think of it...a sorta growling noise?"
If that's another type of creature...
Nodding, the redhead stood up, and looked out around the parking lot in front of the building. "I coulda sworn I heard..."
The source of the noise swung off the main street and came to a stop in front of the doors, still purring to itself even as a door opened and its occupant stepped out, peering eagerly at the hospital. Damian was pretty sure he wasn't imagining this, but then, he still wasn't entirely sure he wasn't in a coma. Better to be sure. He gripped a small weight in his right hand, just in case.
Lus grinned, and headed over to the car. "Nice wheels, man!" He acted his usual cheerful self and inspected the car, ignoring its driver nearly completely. If he looked, he'd want to take, and he couldn't deal with that right now, he really couldn't. No way to hold himself back.
Sabbat pushed himself away from the wall, grimacing as his injured leg took his weight. It didn't seem to be healing yet, and he was half-convinced he'd managed some sort of permanent damage.
Ah well. Go and see what's going on, then deal with that.
"Hey!" Damian greeted triumphantly, breaking into a wide grin himself. "So there are other people! Shit, I was starting to get really worried." The car, on inspection, would be revealed first as being filthy in the front, full of convenience store food in the back, and painted light metallic blue all over.
"Ooooh, you've got junk food!" Lus crowed happily. "And yeah, there are a bunch of us spread out, I think. There's a group," with really nice eyes, "off that way somewhere. Probably more than just the one. And Sabbat and me're staying here." He pointed to his companion. "I'm Lus."
Sabbat nodded at the new arrival, and took another drag of his cigarette. He was more interested, he has to admit, in the large metal... carriage-thing the man had arrived in.
What the hells is it?
Damian looked the way Lus had pointed, making a note of the buildings so he wouldn't forget. Weird names these two had... but, whatever. He nodded back to Sabbat, who looked like a creep, and extended his hand to Lus. "Damian Truwick. Help yourself to that stuff. I pretty much--ow." He looked down at his right leg, which had inexplicably started to hurt and was only getting worse. "God dammit." He looked between the two others accusingly, leaning on the car while he waited for an explanation.
Lus frowned at Damian when he cursed. "You okay, man?" He eyed the hood of the car, hoping against hope for something he could salvage, but there was nothing.
Sabbat was also staring at his own right leg, cigarette arrested halfway to his mouth. "What the fuck--?"
He should have expected this, really. He focused on Sabbat, irrationally pissed off at him. "It's you. What the hell happened to you?" Without waiting for an answer, he leaned over and pulled up the leg of his jeans to reveal the inflamed wound. Damian swore again.
Lus whistled. "Holy shit. That looks just like..." He glanced over at Sabbat. "No fucking way, man!" He was torn between being amazed and being scared absolutely shitless.
Sabbat raised his eyebrows and nearly dropped his cigarette when he saw the perfect copy of his own wound on the other man's leg. "You some sort of shape-changer?" he growled.
That's the last thing I need. Another fairy-tale monster who just happens to be real.
"Yes fucking way," Damian growled. "I didn't do this on purpose," he snapped at Sabbat. "This shit just happens to me. You got hurt, I got too close, now I get to suffer. Fuck. It was such a good day before this."
"Well, at least you picked the best place for it to happen in. We've got painkillers and bandages and shit inside. We've probably even got some morphine left." He thumbed over his shoulder at the rest of the hospital. "I'm fastest, I can have some stuff and be back in, like, five minutes. I know shit about first aid though," he warned.
Sabbat glared at the man and pulled out his razor. He was not in the mood for arguments with random strangers, even if they did somehow remove wounds. "Look. I don't know who the fuck you are, or why that just happened, but I ain't in the best of moods right now. So if you don't want to get your throat cut, back off."
Damian straightened up cautiously, captivated by the razor. "Okay, man. Just chill out. Believe me, I'm not happy about this, either. I'm gonna give you your space, and this'll go away, and it'll be cool." He didn't know how that worked, either, but it usually did.
Lus sighed and shook his head. "Yunno what? I'm gonna go get some painkillers all the same. Back in a tic. Don't kill each other." He headed back in at a sprint, heading for the pharmacists'.
Sabbat nodded to the stranger. "You do that."
Fuck, I need some Smoke! I thought I'd dealt with this.
"Yeah... can I do it inside, though? Looks like a big hospital." He didn't have to tell Sabbat that the wound hurt like hell, and he didn't feel like being stuck out here at night with zombies on the prowl, car or no car.
Lus spent a good while snooping around for proper painkillers, debating over several types, before grabbing them all, and running back towards the pair he'd left, hoping no one was dead--and at the same time hoping someone was so that he could take the eyes, put them in a jar, have them with him... He growled to himself a little. Fucking hell, he was going to go insane before this was over.
Sabbat frowned. If it was up to him, he wouldn't let the other man set foot inside the building, but he'd admit that Lus had some right to decide, seeing as he was the one who'd found the damn place. "Wait 'til he comes back. Then we'll talk."
"Fair enough." Damian made sure his weight was all on his left leg and leaned back against the car. He looked around for zombies while he waited, trying to ignore the pain.
Lus reappeared before too long, though slightly longer than the five minutes he'd promised. "Right. Painkillers." He tossed the little box to Damian. "So. What's the plan?"
Damian caught the box with his free hand--he still had his weight in the other--and nodded to Lus. "Thanks, man." He looked at Sabbat. He was the one with the issue, he could explain it.
Sabbat looked over at Lus, and gestured to the other man--Damian. "He wants to rest up inside. You trust him?"
I do, about as much as I trust anyone else in this sixdamned city--that is to say, not at all.
The redhead shrugged. "Guess so. No harm for now at least." And if Damian turned out to not be trustworthy, well, they had a whole damn city to get away from him in. And now that he knew there were cars about... Besides the sooner he was healed up the sooner he would leave. Lus didn't feel at all comfortable with having only one person in the group who didn't know. If he or Sabbat slipped up and mentioned eyes.... This new guy could potentially do something very not fun to him.
Damian was absolutely the last person to resort to violence, for obvious reasons, but Lus wasn't to know. The young man waited for confirmation that he was allowed in--for now, at least.
Sabbat dropped his cigarette and ground it out under his boot. His right boot. "S'pose so." He turned to Damian. "You try anything..." He made a slitting gesture across his throat.
No point in bothering to be nice to him, is there?
Lus rolled his eyes a little at Sabbat's threats, but didn't contradict them. "Come on in. We've got tons of room." He threw the newest member of their little group a sideways sort of a grin.
Like trying anything would be good for his own health. They really didn't get it. Damian sighed. "Right, thanks. I'll just get my bag and some food and find some dark corner to limp off to." He proceeded to do just that.
Sabbat rolled his eyes and took a vial of morphine and a syringe out of his pocket, moving back to lean against the wall again. He was getting better at this whole 'injecting' thing, but it still felt too... medical.
It's the only thing that's keeping you sane right now, mate. Who cares how it feels?
Lus slumped back into the chair he'd been in before, frowning a little. "Jesus Fuck. As great as it is to see another human... Just what I don't need." He grumbled and flopped back in his seat.
Damian, who was busy picking what he wanted out of the assorted junk in the back and stuffing it into his gym bag, didn't catch any of that. When he did close the car door and turn around, he did get the sense that he'd missed something, but he wasn't interested in pressing it. Damn. Why had he been so keen on finding people? They were just trouble. He tipped them a sarcastic salute and made his way into the building, grimacing at every other step.
Sabbat returned the other man's salute almost automatically, then injected the drug into his arm. Its effects were getting weaker, but it still gave him a release from the craving for Smoke. Which was something he needed.
"You really trust him?"
"Hell no. I don't trust anyone." He raised an eyebrow. He wasn't going to say why, Sabbat knew well enough. The only reason he'd confided in the other man was because they were sort of in the same boat.
Sabbat nodded, stuffing the syringe back in his pocket. "Clever. You don't trust me, and I don't trust you--works perfectly."