#ace 01

“You don’t look like this place’s kinda guy.” Miles’ hands are shoved in his pockets, taking absolutely zero responsibility for the fact that he basically just sneaked up on this guy completely without warning. Or maybe he didn’t. He doesn’t know if other people can hear the nanomachine buzzing like he can.

Three days. Three whole bleedin’ days. Hiding in alleyways, behind newspapers, behind trash cans, behind whatever damn disguise he could think of. Nothing learned, nothing found, nothing gained. The only thing he found out, from all that crawling, and skulking, and simpering, was that there were people in this city who could gut him with a glance -- and they’d be very happy to! Delighted, even! As if being kidnapped wasn’t bad enough. As if being constantly watched, waiting for the axe to drop, any day now, wasn’t bad enough. No, the inmates had to be as dangerous as the wardens, too. Of course they had to. Of course. He had run for longer, and for much worse, so much worse, but this time, someone else was holding all the cards, and he... he had nothing. Nothing at all. Nothing but death, creeping towards him from all sides. So, for the first time in a long time, Cáel gave up. Dropped the illusion-- Was it Jack? Or Stephen? Lord, he didn’t even remember, what did it matter, anyway? They already knew he was under his thumb-- wandered his way to some park or another, crawled up onto a bench, and gave right the fuck up. He couldn’t do it anymore, not now. Flopping over onto the back of the bench, he looked up at the cloudy sky, the trees, and wondered if he’d the feel the blade when the guillotine fell.

His contacts itched. He’d have to take them out sometime. Ugh.

He really wished he had a smoke. Why didn’t he buy a pack? Was he too paranoid to buy a pack? Really? Not even one? ...Was it true, he wondered? Cáel pulled the cube out of his pocket and spun it in his fingers, dully. He knew he should have thrown it away, but this little cube, this little tracking device, no doubt, was the only lead he had. It was all so absurd. Like something out of a bad sci-fi novel. Apocalypses, servants and masters, command seals... And yet, and yet, they knew everything. They knew his name. They knew his D.O.B. They even knew about his astigmatism -- in the left eye. And at least one thing was true, he mused, hand drifting up to his scarf. It trembled. ...He sighed, putting the cube away. A cube, a cattle brand, and a city full of lunatics. That was his hand. Jesus, when was the last time he slept? He thought he just saw that dumpster move. He couldn’t go on much longer like this. He could always go to that address... but, no, no, that would be a terrible idea. Maybe he could sleep right here. He’d done it before. No, not here, this was too open, maybe one of those tr-- ...Wait. There it went again. No, no, he definitely saw that. That was no hallucination. Snapping upright, he squinted at the dumpster nestled in the alleyway across from him. A pair of legs were sticking out of it, and Cáel  was about ready to call 911, or whatever amounted to 911 in this nightmare, when he saw the legs thrash about wildly. Was someone-- was someone stuck in there? He stood up, not about to let someone drown in a sea of garbage... But froze, his eyes going wide. No, not just someone. It was harder to tell, with so little to go on, but he saw it now. Darkness, so much darkness, as far as he could see, and eyes, so many eyes, like stars, as green as the most toxic poison, all staring down at him. They were staring at him. It wasn’t the worst thing he had seen. He had seen light as blinding as the sun, threatening to pierce him straight though the eye, kill him without a second thought, he had seen flames that nearly burned him, inside and out, turning him into ash, and he had seen people who walked, talked, laughed like anyone else, and yet were nothing at all. Those ones, those frightened him the most. No, he had seen worse, but... But, what? What was this? His neck ached. This was a terrible idea. This was a terrible, horrible, very bad, no-good idea. Cáel  edged his way to the alleyway, carefully, ever so carefully, and gave the dumpster a little kick. “...Erm, are you alright in there?” He probed, cautiously, but not unpleasantly. “Do you need a, ah, a hand? Maybe?” What else did he have to go on? A cube, a city full of lunatics, and a cattle brand.

[🎼] Sabo said that Ace would like her, but bringing a gift to make sure didn’t hurt... plus she did want to try her hand at cooking again after all the fun she had preparing for Thanksgiving.  Who knows, maybe if Sabo hadn't completely eaten everything, Ace could have sampled what she's capable of already.

[🎼] Steeling her nerves against a nervousness that the gynoid couldn't quite place and allowing a smile to grace her features, Luka reaches out and raps against the door of Ace's home, quietly hoping that the brother of her friend was home.