Jun. 12th, 2015 02:55 am
devourer: (and on the bottom)
[personal profile] devourer
[ Three years may have passed, and Yako may have grown, but for Neuro, it had been nothing more than the blink of an eye, and when he returns, he's much the same as ever. The only thing changed is his battered appearance - it's as though he'd never been injured at all, nor spent a year draining his abilities - and, perhaps, just maybe, a slight change in his behavior towards her, though with Neuro, it's hard to tell. A less controlling hand; an occasional sense of pride towards her. Little things that couldn't be clearly quantified. And they're even more uncertain coupled with the fact that the number of attacks and beatings hasn't changed at all. Still, there's a faint sense that he sees her differently, as minor a shift as it may be for a stubborn old demon. Less pillbug and more partner, though he seldom decides to honor her with any nickname nicer than "slug."

And though he still insists on dragging her into absolutely everything. Case in point: she's just had a good chunk of her bank account vacated to buy two tickets onto this luxury cruise liner. Almost meeting his death in the water clearly wasn't enough to scare Neuro away from it. After two of this line's ships went missing out in the Pacific Ocean without a trace, a more serious investigation was called for - not looking for the ships or the bodies, of course, but the criminal behind it. According to Neuro, it's not an accident. Also according to Neuro, the culprit should be aboard this ship, and the mystery should be quite sumptuous!

Well, he's excited.

They're nearing the end of the first day aboard, and, evidently, the mystery is stil "ripening," according to him. As such, there hasn't been any serious investigation yet, although there's little doubt that Neuro's minions are scuttling about the ship. The sun is starting to set on the deck, and the view is quite stunning. The other passengers are watching peacefully. Predictably, Neuro is ignoring it entirely. ]

Look, Yako. I have found a drinking straw made in your size. [ instead, he's prodding her face with one end of a pool noodle. ]
frater: (I'm snagged by a nervous twitch)
[personal profile] frater
[ by all means, he should be dead.

No, he is quite sure that he was dead. The memory is chillingly crisp - Rion's grip around his throat, the pain, their words, that darkness. His pain had been great but fleeting. Then there was nothing.

Nothing, and then this.

The sound of his Mother's tower does not rouse Cain from endless sleep, but it is not long after that the sound of footsteps from the lower levels does. Unexpectedly, he finds his fingers curling against the ground, the neurons in his enhanced brain firing again as if he's a car that's been jumpstarted (in reality, this is not far from the truth.) He pulls himself to his knees - his entire body feels numb and tingling, and where it doesn't, it aches, but the sensation is only a minor annoyance to him, because Galerians are born to suffer through their lives. What is troubling is that he does not understand why. There are many things Cain doesn't understand; he was a defect, an imperfect clone, and Mother rarely let him leave the comforting red confines of the Mushroom Tower, assigning him a different purpose than the rest. His siblings knew far more than he did about this damnable planet they were trying to change. But he doubts even Rita could explain what just happened to him.

He tries to gather his thoughts. Focus. When he listens, he cannot feel the faint buzzing in his ears that indicated the presence nearby of any of his kin. Was Rion dead, then? Somehow, it's a bittersweet concept, but it's one he can't linger on now - he notices secondarily just how quiet it is around him. There's no thrum of energy from the endless number of wires, servers, and every other piece of machinery that powered Dorothy's mind. There's silence. The round room, which had been so like a womb to him before, warm and alive with noise, was suddenly, noticeably different, all at once - a red, bloody echo chamber. Then Dorothy, too, was --

Ah. So that was it. That's why he's here now.

The sardonic smile that curls onto his face as he laughs to himself (or at himself) is dark. A tool to the end, of course - he never expected more. It was his greatest joy, he thinks and pleads. But he doesn't have time to think about it more now. There were humans coming up the tower from below. He can hear them and feel their presence, too - probably officers, police of some kind, coming to inspect the damage. Cain could not allow himself to be caught by them, or he would ruin everything further. It's at once surprsingly easy for him to destroy the wall of the room of his birth - he was not a sentimental sort, it seemed - and open a path to the outside world. The sky was dark and gray even as dawn approached, thanks to the smog the humans released. No matter. He steps off into it as if he were toeing into a pool, and his telekinesis carries his slight and damaged frame through the air. The pain really is incredible. His head feels like it might burst - for some reason, it's funny to him, and he can't bring himself to care.

His work isn't over. He had not failed yet. He had to find Lilia - there's a voice, an instinct, deep in his nerves that urges him to do so. So he enters the city and searches, opening his mind to scan for her. All it would take is a single psychic call from her. ]


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