Untitled 2

[The Soviet Titties]

"Oh, no no no, please calm down," Layle got up right away, almost frightened. He looked over at Krista and told her to calm down Genevieve. "Those drugs aren't guaranteed to work all the time, especially if she goes through some intense emotional stress!"

Krista didn't spend any time telling Layle he was probably the problem, and his constant advancements towards Genevieve. "Gen, Gen!" Krista sat on Genevieve's shoulder. "Please calm down. I'm sure your family is fine; Kaitzur was a long way from your house. I-I don't know what's going on either, but you need to calm down before anyone is hurt," Krista begged Genevieve.

[Tsaritsa of Salt]

Deep breaths. In and out.

********. It wasn't working.

Genevieve, without looking up, points at Layle. "Get out. Just.... Just get out."

With Layle gone, she could calm down enough, and gather herself. Slowly, she withered as her anger melted away, and instead she began to cry. "But- he thought I had powers, and then Layle took me away. What if he tries to find them, thinking they have whatever he thinks I have?"

She sobbed for a moment, ashamed but unable to stop.

"Do you...know who Abbadon?"

[The Soviet Titties]

"Alright, alright," Layle stood up disappointed, and made his way into another room. Someone was telling him to "get out", and in his own house. If it wasn't for the woman being the equivalent of some kind of time bomb, he would have given her an earful.

Krista didn't know what else to do but let Genevieve know she was there as Genevieve tried her hardest to keep herself in check. That was unfortunately one of her weakest traits, and Krista hoped it wouldn't be a problem; she was assuming both of them would encounter Mortimer again. After all, they knew what was happening and standing around and letting some madman destroy everything wold not fly with Krista--especially because it was Mortimer himself.

"You should at least be thankful, despite that man being a complete idiot. He did help the situation; if it weren't for him you would have been back at Kaitzur with even more blood upon your hands and in pain," Krista tried to console Genevieve.

"And...I believe um, it was one of the Archon Lords from before the First Age when the gods still walked upon Valdtier. One of the most dangerous ones, it was also called The Red Death because it manifested itself as a kind of plague."

[Tsaritsa of Salt]

The Red Death. Genevieve had heard of that before. Her mother, during one of her worse days, wouldn't stop rambling about it.

She had scared Genevieve that day, talking about the monster, and claiming that Genevieve had been there, years ago, when she had killed the Red Death. Jean had later confirmed that her mother had destroyed the Red Death, but that she must've gotten confused about Genevieve.

Genevieve swallowed. "The Red Death. My mother was the one who killed it," she said slowly. "And that is what is what Mortimer thinks is inside me."

She sighed, and stood up. This- all of this- was hard to take in. "I'm going to sleep. We will have to figure this out later." She journeyed through the flat, and upon passing Layle, she said, "I changed my mind. I'm taking your bed. You get the floor."

Upon finding the bedroom, she shut the door behind her and collapsed on the bed.

[The Soviet Titties]

"You're cold," Layle responded and looked up from what he was doing, "but I like that." With the door to his room shut, he sighed. He finally looked around his flat and saw the depressed state that it was in. The once lovely patterned walls were faded, nearly every inch of space was occupied by dust or papers or books of some kind, and even the little bit of furniture he had seemed faded and sullen. It had been several months since he had been able to even stay for more than a minute in there, and he remembered why he didn't exactly like to either.

"Layle," Krista came into the same place as him. "Is...it true you know Mortimer?"

"Hm? I do; why do you ask?"

"Are you really trying to save him? Even...if it means killing him if it comes to it?"

Layle didn't answer, and looked away not wanting to even think about that option. Even what Mortimer was doing, and had done in the past was despicable, Layle didn't think he could bring himself to kill Mortimer if the entire world depended on it.

"I'm sorry," Krista broke the silence. "Even if you are an idiot, I think I can trust you. But if you ever touch Genevieve you'll get it," she added rather harshly at the end and she left to go find a spot to rest. It wasn't much of a threat, and Layle only chuckled. Genevieve would probably kick his a** if he snuck into his own room at the moment.

Layle looked out the small kitchen window, and headed for the low couch tucked away in a tight corner for some sleep.

*** *** ***

Later during the day when Genevieve had awaken and came out the room, Layle was already up and tinkering with one of his firearms upon the table. He looked slightly disheveled and he only glanced up at her for a second to smile and give her a wink. "Up already?" he asked her. "You look like you could use some more beauty sleep. There's a few sandwiches I bought over in the kitchen, if you're hungry."

[Tsaritsa of Salt]

Upon waking up, Genevieve cleaned herself up as best she could. Her shirt was covered in dirt and dried blood, and she discarded it, taking one of Layle's instead. It was wrinkled, which she didn't care for, but it was the tidiest she could find. She tucked it in as smoothly into her pants as she could. In the bathroom, she splashed water on her face, and when she walked into the kitchen, she was braiding her hair.

"I'm going to need to know everything about Mortimer," she said, grabbing three sandwiches and sitting across from Layle. "His weaknesses, fears, how he is able to do what he does; everything." She took a large bite out of the first, and continued. "I will need weapons. I'm strongest with a crossbow, but I can use a sword. And you and I are going to figure out how to save Dirk, kill Mortimer, and get rid of the curse he placed on me."

[The Soviet Titties]

Layle looked up at her seriously when she mentioned killing Mortimer. "He has no fears. Mortimer is not someone who you can expose through a tiny crack and overcome. He...he's nearly flawless. I've tried to chase him for some time, but the most I've been able to do is stall for a bit. But...you have two choices: we can either focus our efforts on trying to stop him, or we can focus first on getting rid of that curse," Layle spoke.

"Those serums...won't last forever. You'll need to inject yourself every forty-eight hours, and even then it's not guaranteed to keep you in the state you're in. And every time you'll need more and more doses until...it doesn't last any longer. And I don't know how long it will work. If you try to stop Mortimer first, you run the risk of failing and only aiding him; but if you focus on yourself, we might not be able to stop him either."

[Tsaritsa of Salt]

By the time Layle had finished speaking, Genevieve had eaten two of the sandwiches, and was now working on a third. They were rather tasty; meat and cheese, with lettuce and tomatoes, as well as some sort of tangy spread that Genevieve hadn't had before.

"So the best move is to break the curse first," she said, nodding. This was good, thinking tactfully, and making plans. This was familiar to her. "Do you know how this can be done, and if so, how long will it take? And how much of the serum do you have?"

She set her sandwich down, and picked up one of Layle's guns. "And how do these work?"

[The Soviet Titties]

"Hell if I know," Layle answered honestly, "though you're not the first this has ever happened to, so I have a lot of those things stored around here. But don't worry, there's been a way I've been able to at least follow Mortimer around, but we'll head out later. You'll see why."

Layle winced slightly when Genevieve picked up the flintlock. "Hey, becareful with that," he demanded and took it from her. "It's a flintlock mechanism; the c**k here makes it so the flint strikes against the frizzen and ignites the gunpowder inside. Though, these are rather unreliable. I uh...I use them mainly for the look..." he admitted sheepishly.

"I'm waiting to see if I can steal--er, get ahold of something more reliable. These aren't as safe or perhaps that effective, but they're a lot flashier and mobile than your crossbow, princess."

[Tsaritsa of Salt]

"Flashier?" Genevieve repeated, rolling her eyes. An aesthetically pleasing weapon was no match for a sound one. "I'll stick to a crossbow- and please stop with the 'princess' thing. I'm no royalty, you know my name, and so there is no need."

She became quiet again, staring at the pistol.

"So...are you suggesting we find Mortimer, and ask him how to release the curse?" Genevieve asked. "I don't think approaching him as I am is the best idea. All it took was a snap of his fingers, and I turned. I won't risk that happening again. Too.... Too many lives were lost."

[The Soviet Titties]

"Well, uh, kind of? It's worth a shot, isn't it?" Layle shrugged. "You see, Mortimer's a scientist, and I did work with him a while back. He has to have some place that he's operating out of. I was thinking that maybe if we could find where his base is, we could possibly find out what exactly he's up to and perhaps some kind of cure would be there for you as well."

Layle shot up instantly from his seat without warning and put on his coat. "C'mon, believe it or not it's already it's night in this city already, and that sky is always like that. We'll head to where we need to, and afterwards I;d like to show you somewhere. I think it's the least you could do for me after saving you; though a kiss wouldn't be too bad of a substitute," he opened the door outside, allowing the heat from the city to rush in.

[Tsaritsa of Salt]

Genevieve frowned as Layle suddenly suggested they leave. "It can't have been thirty hours yet!" She protested, but got out of her seat to follow him, but not before grabbing the last part of the sandwich she had been eating. She would get hungry sooner if she didn't finish her meal.

"If you are suggesting this be a date of sorts," Genevieve said crossly, for she had not forgotten how that had been his initial reaction to helping her, "you are sorely mistaken that will happen. I don't have the time to just--"

She let out a frustrated sigh. It wasn't likely he would listen.

"Can we just make sure to get a crossbow and arrows while we are out?"

[The Soviet Titties]

"I wasn't actually thinking that, but now that you mention it I suppose it could be," he smiled at the thought. "But don't worry, it'll be helpful. Though i'm not sure we'll be able to find the weapon you want. Yulia city isn't as antique as uh, Valdtier," he added.

Despite it being "night", the city was still very much alive and crowded with people on its humid streets. Layle and Genevieve didn't have to walk much as they rode something that was best described as a crude metal basket hanging by a single wire. Layle said that they were called "aerial trams", and it was the most popular way to get around the city, especially in the parts where there was no visible ground.

They got off at a seedy cluster of people and packed doors that resembled the market streets that surrounded the bottomless-center of the city. It was only the passing trams and several openings into the bottom that reminded everyone they were packed all onto conjoined skyscrapers. Lights of all kinds lit up the roaming streets, from candles, torches, magic, and something that Layle pointed out and called "elektrikal".

There was a particular spot that seemed to be isolated and was shadowed by the overhead and hanging buildings. An elektrikal sign was placed over the dark door that read L'Amour, and Layle without hesitation opened the doors and lead Genevieve down a small flight of stairs into a dim area that smelled of harsh perfumes, tobacco, food, and more perfume. Several people stood around talking quietly in a lobby area that led off in two different directions. There was a small table that separated both of the hallways and behind it an oddly dressed woman with all kinds of mismatching pinks and reds of feathers, furs, and thin clothing.

"Hey, Morgan," Layle waved and approached the woman who sat precariously upon the desk smoking. "Is Eluda here tonight?"

"Mhmm," she replied and lifted her head ever so slowly to Layle and blew smoke in his direction. "She just came in a few minutes ago; she's probably getting ready for tonight. You're here early--you feeling really lonely tonight?"

Layle coughed. "No, not tonight. Besides, it's none of your damn business, Morgan."

"I suggest you be nicer if you don't want to be thrown out. You forget I'm the gatekeeper, y'know."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Ooh, who's this lady? You trying to get her a job here? Eluda needs some extra hands for tonight, we have one of those dangerous fellas and his group coming in later tonight--if y'know what I mean. Apparently this guy likes more than one girl to put his arm around."

"No no, it's not like that. We're simply working together on something, and we're on break. Thought I'd show her around for a bit. Anyways, we're going inside, Morgan. Tell Eluda that I'm looking for her--urgently," Layle instructed and grabbed Genevieve by the arm to pull her further into the place.

The hallway led to a large and dimly lit room. There was a stage at the very end of the place, and booths and tables were placed everywhere between the opposite wall and the stage. The place was fairly inhabited by all kinds of people who drank and talked to each other in laughing whispers and kisses.

Layle sat in one of the chairs further back. "So uh, you drink? I'll buy you something while we wait."

[Tsaritsa of Salt]

Despite the urgency to stick to the plan and find a way to release her curse, Genevieve found herself caught up in the wonder of the entire city. It was so massive- so high, and so very different from anything Genevieve had ever experienced. The height, the tram, the elektrikal lights; she was awed by all.

Genevieve was less impressed by the shop they went into.

She glared at Layle as soon as they sat down at a table. "A brothel?" She hissed. "Why would you have even considered to bring me here; don't you have any tact?"

Ugh. She had hated the way the woman had spoken of her, as if she would ever whore herself out. Such women had no self worth.

"I cannot believe that woman knows you so well; it's disgusting."

[The Soviet Titties]

"We prefer to call it a cabaret" Layle corrected her with a frown. "And don't worry, it's not the place I wanted to take you to. Besides, it's actually not too bad here, and to be honest I'm not fond of that woman. She's awfully nosy and could get us in trouble if I had said too much."

Layle looked around him as if he didn't want anyone listening, and meanwhile looked out for Eluda. "So I'm guessing you don't want that drink?"