Welcome to Gaia! ::

What You Had & What You Lost

It is odd, something she has honestly never experience before, but the feeling of someone loosing consciousness in her arms is merely something Abbi views with a clinical curiosity. Her head tilts to one side, her mass of hair split in two spilling over onto her friend as she pulls his wrist between one hand and finds a slowed pulse. The girl says nothing as she awkwardly tries to move him off herself, shaking softly with giggles.
This is reality, this is Leslie Miller, grump-master and growly kitten, slumped against Abbi for only the guard to see.
"You're kinda adorbs when you're not tryin' to be a giant d***o." Is the worst thing Abbi can think to say as she dumps her friend onto his pillow, not because she wants to but because she has neglected the upper strength portion of her training. Her scythe helps some, but it isn't the full weight of a person.

Once Leslie is tucked in, because Abbi is nothing if not distantly motherly with her attempts to place his blankets in a position she thinks will be warm or shift her hip so she is still touching him, she pulls the bag at the foot of the bed closer. There are books in there and her notebook and pens of which she pulls out, spreads out across the narrow cot and continues her study as though her best friend (glob, when did he become her best friend with his curses and shrillness) isn't passed out beside her.
Never one to stay still, the girl curls stockinged toes incessantly as she scribbles on the lined pages, she taps out the measures of a song in her head, she shifts her knees this way and that while doodling moons and stars on her paper. A likeness of Leslie's sleeping form is tried, but it is so horrendous that Abbi scraps the entire page and rewrites the three sentences she had penned on the pale blue paper.

Finally, finally after what feels like forever without the harshness, Leslie stirs and Abbi smiles down at him.
"Feelin' better?" Is all she asks, no apologies for being right up against him like a needy puppy, no remarks about how she has invaded his space and his bed and has doodled a heart and a moon and the constellation of Virgo on his exposed arm with a black pen. She is smiles and whispers, friends in a dark place with only time together.

Deja Vu

His movements didn't slow, but his expression grew pensive. Just what he wanted to hear, more issues on the horizon to be mindful of. "Something like what?" Jack prompted. "A creature? A person? A specter?" Leslie's pitiful state wouldn't stop him from asking questions; Chel's certainly hadn't.

Deja Vu

"I'll hold you to it, Shitstain." Used so often, the word had lost its sharp edge; now it almost sounded like an inside joke.

Jack nudged the third and final pop Leslie's way too to save him the trouble. "Think they'll give you a bomb bracelet too?" he asked casually. "Let's hope not. I brought Abbi out to celebrate her promo, so I figured I'd be nice and offer you the same opportunity."

Deja Vu

"Well, if they bother to read your report at all, I don't imagine you'd have anything to worry about by the sounds of it," he said with a shrug. "If we start executing people for murdering under the influence, we won't have any forces before the war really kicks in."

At least, that was what it felt like to Jack. A virus, the red eye phenomena, clones, the resurgence of horsemen, and a meddling Merlin certainly wouldn't be leading them down the path of a peace treaty. Pieces were being moved and more players would be introduced soon enough.

He snorted as he fitted the new morphine bag into place. "Naturally alcohol will be involved, don't worry. I have a few ideas in mind, but I'm open to suggestions. AK literally just wanted to get boozed up, so we went to the Czech Republic a few weeks back. Best beer in the world honestly." He sent Leslie a side-eyed smirk. "I also got a few photos of her drunk off her a**."

What You Had & What You Lost

After a moment, he release the sheets from his reign of terror, and shifted to wrap his arms around Abbi's waist instead. He was being clingy in a way he'd regret later, but right now, he could use the comfort. America would later offer him empathy and logic and how to live, and Taym would offer him nothing at all. But Abbi had stayed, and Abbi had given him a fondness unconditional, a continuation of what she'd granted him already for days, weeks, months.

It was just that only now, Leslie was starting to realize how precious that was.

Leslie's tears hit her shirt, and he shook for a minute, with an ugly sob, all over again. "Me too," he said, "me too. There's this...whatever it is, it makes you mad and it catches like a cold till everyone at a base's got it. And all you wanna do is maim and kill and ruin. And all you can do is do everything in your power to do...that. And it's like, like a game, right? Survival of the fittest? You're playing for a prize and I don't know what. But every time it wore off I started feeling worse, and every time it hit I stopped feeling so bad."

He wept, in pieces, in between each sentence. Like a sad dog, left out in the rain and abandoned only it had been taken in and just hadn't forgotten the worst of it. "By the end, I wanted to feel like that. Like a winner. Because then at least I wouldn't be so hungry, but I know what I ate when I was."

And Aleria had enjoyed it, with great gusto. They weren't really talking, right now.

What It Was Worth

After Abbi's kindness, after America's advice, after Taym's abandonment, Leslie was having a catnap. His arm was curled around the first Harry Potter book, and he'd made real progress in it. The bucket at his side had been recently cleared-- which was for the best. Anything longer than a few minutes still set him off, like some kid queasy from his first time on a rollarcoaster.

He stirred as Stormy made her way in, and despite his self hatred, shied away.

"Hey," he said, and for some reason, felt like a disappointment. Like of all people, Stormy would have had expectations for him, and if Leslie hadn't ruined them all in Russia, then he didn't know what would.

What It Was Worth

"Hey..." Her smile dimmed momentarily when she saw how wretched he looked, but it didn't completely leave. Stormy hesitated, then pulled up a seat anyway. "Sorry if I woke you up. You can go back to sleep if you want."

It wouldn't be the first time she was in that position.

She glanced at the book and lit up. "How d'you like it?"

What It Was Worth

"You, uh. You don't want that." Leslie sat up, albeit with some terrible posture, cradling the book in his arms carefully. "I get nightmares or whatever. It's dumb." Also, I might puke everywhere, and you're like my older sister, that'd be terrible.

Leslie flipped open to the chapter he was on, scanning it. "It's weird, but not bad. He's annoying, and so're all his friends. Enemies too. Also th'mirror's creepy." He yawned, and rubbed at his eyes, and then took a good look at Stormy. It had been a while, since he'd seen her properly, instead of communications through letters and notes. And then he just squinted at her.