I am NOT a Lapdog

*dead*

Oh my god- Is he?!

Look— kid.

[Lasha tapped their cane against the ground to get the Rookies attention. They hated that it’d have to come to this, but desperation is the mother of necessity, and necessity is the mother of invention.]

You got connections with FEMA, how are you in a scientific setting? I think you and I could help each other.

[They breathe in, then out, trying to clear their head and talk to someone they are certain holds a disdain for them, and they hold a certain dislike of him, too.

But they can’t be petty enemies, it feels weird enough to have this much beef with a literal highschooler. They shake their head of the thought. Nows not the time for argument, nows not the time to treat him with hatred.]

Me and Ilya need access to a proper lab— with proper equipment to gather samples of gamma rays and solar radiation to study, as well as the studying of various symptoms visitors display. If you help us, I can promise you anything you want, I’ll make it worthwhile for you.

The teenager had certainly changed since the last time Lasha saw him. His eyes were no longer pink but a swollen, bloodshot scarlet, ringed with bruised-looking skin. His hair was cropped to a rough buzzcut and his knuckles were encased in bandages. What exactly happened to him...?

“Ha, you must be desperate if you're coming to me.”

His blood runs cold when he hears the word lab. His shoulders stiffened. The bandaged fingers curled into a fist.

[Lasha stood, dumbfounded. They swallowed the urge to yell. But they knew that it would come out eventually.]

Why not? Seriously access to a proper lab could change everything.

[They gripped their cane tightly. Is he crazy? Is he insane? Or has he just accepted the state of the world?

Well, Lasha had not.]

I’m not lying about any of this— ask Ilya or something. I’m not asking you for access to a lab. I’m telling you, we need access to one with the proper materials. I am desperate. That what you wanna hear? I’m desperate.

[They grit their teeth. Seriously?!? Ugh, this kid knows nothing. Absolutely nothing, they should be a little kinder, they could be a little more understanding.

There’s a developmental gap between the two in terms of brain maturity. Lasha knows this fact, and realizes they should take it into consideration when they choose their words and actions.

But they don’t.]

I was studying molecular biology before this, I know how a proper lab works, Rook. If you won’t help us then yes— we’ll break in. I know you don’t care for me, as I don’t care for you. But you care about Ilya, yes?

[They leaned down slightly to meet his gaze.]

If you do not help us, we will get hurt. I know you don’t care if I do, but Ilya will get hurt. And probably die trying to help me not get hurt. And that blood will be on your shoulders. Your only job is to tell me a location and how to get inside. The rest I can figure out.

[Their gaze is penetrating, in a way. Those deep dark wells of their eyes, burn scars littering their left side, a shot to their right leg, they’d gotten hurt worse before.

They just really hope they’re not overestimating Ilya’s relevancy in Rooks life right now.

Now Rookie definitely did not want to help Lasha out. However...

The only reason he was recruited to the science team is cause he has resources from FEMA that they can’t get elsewhere

Look— kid.

[Lasha tapped their cane against the ground to get the Rookies attention. They hated that it’d have to come to this, but desperation is the mother of necessity, and necessity is the mother of invention.]

You got connections with FEMA, how are you in a scientific setting? I think you and I could help each other.

[They breathe in, then out, trying to clear their head and talk to someone they are certain holds a disdain for them, and they hold a certain dislike of him, too.

But they can’t be petty enemies, it feels weird enough to have this much beef with a literal highschooler. They shake their head of the thought. Nows not the time for argument, nows not the time to treat him with hatred.]

Me and Ilya need access to a proper lab— with proper equipment to gather samples of gamma rays and solar radiation to study, as well as the studying of various symptoms visitors display. If you help us, I can promise you anything you want, I’ll make it worthwhile for you.

The teenager had certainly changed since the last time Lasha saw him. His eyes were no longer pink but a swollen, bloodshot scarlet, ringed with bruised-looking skin. His hair was cropped to a rough buzzcut and his knuckles were encased in bandages. What exactly happened to him...?

“Ha, you must be desperate if you're coming to me.”

His blood runs cold when he hears the word lab. His shoulders stiffened. The bandaged fingers curled into a fist.

[Lasha stood, dumbfounded. They swallowed the urge to yell. But they knew that it would come out eventually.]

Why not? Seriously access to a proper lab could change everything.

[They gripped their cane tightly. Is he crazy? Is he insane? Or has he just accepted the state of the world?

Well, Lasha had not.]

I’m not lying about any of this— ask Ilya or something. I’m not asking you for access to a lab. I’m telling you, we need access to one with the proper materials. I am desperate. That what you wanna hear? I’m desperate.

[They grit their teeth. Seriously?!? Ugh, this kid knows nothing. Absolutely nothing, they should be a little kinder, they could be a little more understanding.

There’s a developmental gap between the two in terms of brain maturity. Lasha knows this fact, and realizes they should take it into consideration when they choose their words and actions.

But they don’t.]

- Hey, Rook ? It's me, Ilya... Just... Wanted to check on you and tell you I was here... For you... If you ever needed to talk, you know ?

- @not-a-ex-fema-i-swear ☣️

- ... Give me any sign you are alive in here or I swear to God I'll break down this door.

*They were a soldier, a factory worker, than a F.E.M.A agent. A few strong kicks toward the doorknob would suffice.

- Thank you. Maybe a word, now ? Or... A knock back ? I need to check conciousness and... Other stuff.

*And if he did not change.

*Ilya grumpily answered, but worry was peircing in their voice. Rook sounded... Rough, and different, and more agressive he ever was with them. And Ilya knew it was not against them in particular, but hoped a bit of rage might get him out...*

- I will leave you in peace but I...

*What lie could they find in the moment to lure him out ? Checking his bandages ? Needing the bathroom ? No explanation and just destroying the door ?

Or the secret option of actually being honnest ?*

*They knew what it was by sheer logic. Either a window or a mirror. And poor Rook had that typical frustrated teenager anger that followed some patterns...*

Then he finally opened the door.

The bathroom was a war zone, the mirror was shattered into jagged shards that littered the floor like teeth. The sink was cracked, water pooling around the base, its steady drip echoing like a countdown to something worse. Even the shower head had been torn from its moorings, hanging limp and useless.

As for Rookie?

*The place was destroyed. As if grenade exploded here. It would take hours to clean, and with those shards and big pieces of sink and mirror everywhere, Ilya was careful about their steps. Even with their big boots, they could hear the crounching under their feet and, sometimes, a sharp pain when they made a mistake.

But Rook was even more pitiful looking than the room.*

- Rook... Let me do it.

*They tried to reach for the bandages, and, if let to do so, actually bandaged the hand better, with firm precision.*

- Are you hurt anywhere else ?

*The former-FEMA stayed mute, jaw clenched and gaze heavy. The only thing they could look at was the hair scattered along the floor tiles. Why did he do that ? A whole make over ? A diversion ?

They finished bandaging the soon-to-be... No, they could not look at him. Not yet.

Was it them, or did he grew even taller than before ?*

- ... Is it because of Arkadij, or did it start... Earlier ?

*When the Pale Man...

*They answered more calmly, not finding any anger in them to match Rook's. *

- But you know it too deep down. That's why you destroyed that mirror, right ? To not see the signs ?

He pushed Ilya away from him. Shoving them against a wall.

“I ought to shoot your delusional ass right now.”

*With a little pained whisper, Ilya hit the wall and immediatly catched their sniper. This was not going into the desired direction at all.*

- Oooh sure you will young man. I would be very proud to see you use your gun correctly for once.

*Faking assurance and mocking the young boy were disastrous decisions but showing fear or anger would be even worse. Mentioning the Arkadij accident was also a way to remind Rook of who were his friends here...*

- Go on. Impress me.

*The grin that followed was deserving of a punch. The loaded sniper was deserving of cautiousness.*

He noticed Ilya reaching for the sniper. He kicks it away.

*Hands before them in a protective gesture, Ilya tried to pacify Rook the best they could...

The kicking the gun away made them wince in fear, not only for themselves but for the angry boy too. The angry, too tall, too thin, too weird boy.*

- Careful ! One loose bullet and one of us is going to feel it...

At least it was only shouting and a push, for now. But Ilya grew a bit panicked at realizing how tall Rook was, now, compared to them. The former-FEMA was not even a full 1.70 m... And they felt powerless and so, so vulnerable without their gun... It waited for them at the other side of the room, just past Rook...*

- Okay. I misspoke. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that, it was stupid of my part...

*They believed none of that. Well, maybe the stupid part was honnest. But they were still convinced of what Rook was becoming... He looked so much like Him.

But they would loose that fight. And they didnt want to try.*

- ... Why did you cut your hair ?

*They tried to avoid the subject of the mirror, but the sink, broken and dripping, was a subject of worry. They spoke about it in a joke, light tone, but their eyes were full of concern, darting from Rook, to the door, to their gun. They felt a bit of fear pinching their heart... Not only for the shards but for the strenght and anger it asked of Rook to broke it. What was going on inside his head ?*

- ... I know how it is. Accidents...

*Ilya could understand. Violence was born of strong emotions and Rook had his share, lately... The horror and anger he felt at the discovery of what happened to Ivan ? Or was it just anger and despair at seeing his reflexion ? Or something else entierly ?*

He rolls his eyes.

*Okay. It was going somewhere. At least there was no shouting, pushing, menacing or anything as of right now...*

- ... I do not wish to be pushy toward you. I just hope you know you can... Talk to someone instead of breaking stuff and potentially hurting yourself. You scared me, locking yourself up like that.

*Ilya opened wide eyes in surprise. The situation took a turn...*

- You got the wrong idea. You are one of my favorites among these people. A F.E.M.A, like me. And a good guy trying his best. Have I shown anything but care toward you ? If I did, than I apologise. It was not my itent.

*Who offered him the riffle ? Who cooked for him ? Talked to him ? Sure they disagreed on F.E.M.A, and maybe some teasing went too far, but actions were worth a thousand words and Ilya was looking genuinly surprised toward this accusation. It made them look quite stupid, like a wet owl.*

- I just want you to be safe.

-

~• @the-oceans-child •~

-

~• @the-oceans-child •~

- Hey, Rook ? It's me, Ilya... Just... Wanted to check on you and tell you I was here... For you... If you ever needed to talk, you know ?

- @not-a-ex-fema-i-swear ☣️

- ... Give me any sign you are alive in here or I swear to God I'll break down this door.

*They were a soldier, a factory worker, than a F.E.M.A agent. A few strong kicks toward the doorknob would suffice.

- Thank you. Maybe a word, now ? Or... A knock back ? I need to check conciousness and... Other stuff.

*And if he did not change.

*Ilya grumpily answered, but worry was peircing in their voice. Rook sounded... Rough, and different, and more agressive he ever was with them. And Ilya knew it was not against them in particular, but hoped a bit of rage might get him out...*

- I will leave you in peace but I...

*What lie could they find in the moment to lure him out ? Checking his bandages ? Needing the bathroom ? No explanation and just destroying the door ?

Or the secret option of actually being honnest ?*

*They knew what it was by sheer logic. Either a window or a mirror. And poor Rook had that typical frustrated teenager anger that followed some patterns...*

Then he finally opened the door.

The bathroom was a war zone, the mirror was shattered into jagged shards that littered the floor like teeth. The sink was cracked, water pooling around the base, its steady drip echoing like a countdown to something worse. Even the shower head had been torn from its moorings, hanging limp and useless.

As for Rookie?

*The place was destroyed. As if grenade exploded here. It would take hours to clean, and with those shards and big pieces of sink and mirror everywhere, Ilya was careful about their steps. Even with their big boots, they could hear the crounching under their feet and, sometimes, a sharp pain when they made a mistake.

But Rook was even more pitiful looking than the room.*

- Rook... Let me do it.

*They tried to reach for the bandages, and, if let to do so, actually bandaged the hand better, with firm precision.*

- Are you hurt anywhere else ?

*The former-FEMA stayed mute, jaw clenched and gaze heavy. The only thing they could look at was the hair scattered along the floor tiles. Why did he do that ? A whole make over ? A diversion ?

They finished bandaging the soon-to-be... No, they could not look at him. Not yet.

Was it them, or did he grew even taller than before ?*

- ... Is it because of Arkadij, or did it start... Earlier ?

*When the Pale Man...

*They answered more calmly, not finding any anger in them to match Rook's. *

- But you know it too deep down. That's why you destroyed that mirror, right ? To not see the signs ?

He pushed Ilya away from him. Shoving them against a wall.

“I ought to shoot your delusional ass right now.”

*With a little pained whisper, Ilya hit the wall and immediatly catched their sniper. This was not going into the desired direction at all.*

- Oooh sure you will young man. I would be very proud to see you use your gun correctly for once.

*Faking assurance and mocking the young boy were disastrous decisions but showing fear or anger would be even worse. Mentioning the Arkadij accident was also a way to remind Rook of who were his friends here...*

- Go on. Impress me.

*The grin that followed was deserving of a punch. The loaded sniper was deserving of cautiousness.*

He noticed Ilya reaching for the sniper. He kicks it away.

*Hands before them in a protective gesture, Ilya tried to pacify Rook the best they could...

The kicking the gun away made them wince in fear, not only for themselves but for the angry boy too. The angry, too tall, too thin, too weird boy.*

- Careful ! One loose bullet and one of us is going to feel it...

At least it was only shouting and a push, for now. But Ilya grew a bit panicked at realizing how tall Rook was, now, compared to them. The former-FEMA was not even a full 1.70 m... And they felt powerless and so, so vulnerable without their gun... It waited for them at the other side of the room, just past Rook...*

- Okay. I misspoke. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that, it was stupid of my part...

*They believed none of that. Well, maybe the stupid part was honnest. But they were still convinced of what Rook was becoming... He looked so much like Him.

But they would loose that fight. And they didnt want to try.*

- ... Why did you cut your hair ?

*They tried to avoid the subject of the mirror, but the sink, broken and dripping, was a subject of worry. They spoke about it in a joke, light tone, but their eyes were full of concern, darting from Rook, to the door, to their gun. They felt a bit of fear pinching their heart... Not only for the shards but for the strenght and anger it asked of Rook to broke it. What was going on inside his head ?*

- ... I know how it is. Accidents...

*Ilya could understand. Violence was born of strong emotions and Rook had his share, lately... The horror and anger he felt at the discovery of what happened to Ivan ? Or was it just anger and despair at seeing his reflexion ? Or something else entierly ?*

He rolls his eyes.

*Okay. It was going somewhere. At least there was no shouting, pushing, menacing or anything as of right now...*

- ... I do not wish to be pushy toward you. I just hope you know you can... Talk to someone instead of breaking stuff and potentially hurting yourself. You scared me, locking yourself up like that.

Have things changed while I was gone? Peace brought upon you? Or paranoia has still crept onto your back?

- @the-pale-on3

“Destiny must hate me if I have to meet the likes of you again.”

There it is again.. the smile. That disgusting, perfectly aligned smile that would creep anyone out, even the strongest people. The sound he makes when he does it is grueling. It had a disgusting, sticky sound, almost like you could feel the saliva.

I sensed you missed me! The feelings are.. mutual. Oh, what fun it is out here, isn't it?

Haha. No funny business here. You run such a strict program!

He already knew how he would react to his.. presence. But, he doesn't care.

I came here for one thing.

He throws the decapitated head of a FEMA agent on the patio.

- Hey, Rook ? It's me, Ilya... Just... Wanted to check on you and tell you I was here... For you... If you ever needed to talk, you know ?

- @not-a-ex-fema-i-swear ☣️

- ... Give me any sign you are alive in here or I swear to God I'll break down this door.

*They were a soldier, a factory worker, than a F.E.M.A agent. A few strong kicks toward the doorknob would suffice.

- Thank you. Maybe a word, now ? Or... A knock back ? I need to check conciousness and... Other stuff.

*And if he did not change.

*Ilya grumpily answered, but worry was peircing in their voice. Rook sounded... Rough, and different, and more agressive he ever was with them. And Ilya knew it was not against them in particular, but hoped a bit of rage might get him out...*

- I will leave you in peace but I...

*What lie could they find in the moment to lure him out ? Checking his bandages ? Needing the bathroom ? No explanation and just destroying the door ?

Or the secret option of actually being honnest ?*

*They knew what it was by sheer logic. Either a window or a mirror. And poor Rook had that typical frustrated teenager anger that followed some patterns...*

Then he finally opened the door.

The bathroom was a war zone, the mirror was shattered into jagged shards that littered the floor like teeth. The sink was cracked, water pooling around the base, its steady drip echoing like a countdown to something worse. Even the shower head had been torn from its moorings, hanging limp and useless.

As for Rookie?

*The place was destroyed. As if grenade exploded here. It would take hours to clean, and with those shards and big pieces of sink and mirror everywhere, Ilya was careful about their steps. Even with their big boots, they could hear the crounching under their feet and, sometimes, a sharp pain when they made a mistake.

But Rook was even more pitiful looking than the room.*

- Rook... Let me do it.

*They tried to reach for the bandages, and, if let to do so, actually bandaged the hand better, with firm precision.*

- Are you hurt anywhere else ?

*The former-FEMA stayed mute, jaw clenched and gaze heavy. The only thing they could look at was the hair scattered along the floor tiles. Why did he do that ? A whole make over ? A diversion ?

They finished bandaging the soon-to-be... No, they could not look at him. Not yet.

Was it them, or did he grew even taller than before ?*

- ... Is it because of Arkadij, or did it start... Earlier ?

*When the Pale Man...

*They answered more calmly, not finding any anger in them to match Rook's. *

- But you know it too deep down. That's why you destroyed that mirror, right ? To not see the signs ?

He pushed Ilya away from him. Shoving them against a wall.

“I ought to shoot your delusional ass right now.”

*With a little pained whisper, Ilya hit the wall and immediatly catched their sniper. This was not going into the desired direction at all.*

- Oooh sure you will young man. I would be very proud to see you use your gun correctly for once.

*Faking assurance and mocking the young boy were disastrous decisions but showing fear or anger would be even worse. Mentioning the Arkadij accident was also a way to remind Rook of who were his friends here...*

- Go on. Impress me.

*The grin that followed was deserving of a punch. The loaded sniper was deserving of cautiousness.*

He noticed Ilya reaching for the sniper. He kicks it away.

*Hands before them in a protective gesture, Ilya tried to pacify Rook the best they could...

The kicking the gun away made them wince in fear, not only for themselves but for the angry boy too. The angry, too tall, too thin, too weird boy.*

- Careful ! One loose bullet and one of us is going to feel it...

At least it was only shouting and a push, for now. But Ilya grew a bit panicked at realizing how tall Rook was, now, compared to them. The former-FEMA was not even a full 1.70 m... And they felt powerless and so, so vulnerable without their gun... It waited for them at the other side of the room, just past Rook...*

- Okay. I misspoke. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that, it was stupid of my part...

*They believed none of that. Well, maybe the stupid part was honnest. But they were still convinced of what Rook was becoming... He looked so much like Him.

But they would loose that fight. And they didnt want to try.*

- ... Why did you cut your hair ?

*They tried to avoid the subject of the mirror, but the sink, broken and dripping, was a subject of worry. They spoke about it in a joke, light tone, but their eyes were full of concern, darting from Rook, to the door, to their gun. They felt a bit of fear pinching their heart... Not only for the shards but for the strenght and anger it asked of Rook to broke it. What was going on inside his head ?*

- ... I know how it is. Accidents...

*Ilya could understand. Violence was born of strong emotions and Rook had his share, lately... The horror and anger he felt at the discovery of what happened to Ivan ? Or was it just anger and despair at seeing his reflexion ? Or something else entierly ?*

He rolls his eyes.