William Woodrow
Intervention continued...
Billy let go, his suckers freeing with terrible wet pops as he gave a damp snear, "An' how's me end WITHOUT blow, eh? I won't turn into a bloody hideous FREAK? I won't be used in one way or another? I gain any sor' o' control o'er me body? NO! S'jes' one more thing, eh? Tha' what this is? One more thing for ye t'control o'er me!"
Frowning, she looked between the two of them, tails moving nervously behind her. The squirrel wanted none of this, but Antony didn't want to leave them. She was involved too.
Aubrey lowered her eyes and shook her head. "You can end up sick, alone, hanging to life by the brink of death living high to high.
Samantha Blaire: Or you can accept what's happening to you and start working on a life here. Take comfort in the FACT that it's happening to everyone else here. Realize you have a whole community of people here that you could reach out to if you gave it half a chance."
"Like any o' them give a flyin' FECK wha' I think!" Billy snapped, stubborn and horrible as ever as he backed away from them. His skin had gone greyish from his time out in the sun, but was still splotching with various colors, betraying the emotions he was busy bottling up.
"Do I not ******** count anymore Billy?" She suddenly bristled. Granted she hadn't been visiting him for a while, but from what it smelled like in his room, she was the only one who was even making an effort to see him.
For the moment, Antony ignored the fact that Aubrey was talking about how this was going to be their prison until a ripe, old death.
Aubrey rubbed the sore flesh on her wrist, glaring after him. "Maybe they would if you weren't such a foul tempered crackhead!
Samantha Blaire: You think no one likes you because you're turning into a ******** octopus?
Here's a reality check - you're not the only one here who's got the short end of the stick. But everyone else still makes friends. Lovers.
Samantha Blaire: Are actually attempting to move on. No one gives a ******** what's you're turning into. No one cares that you're slimey or crippled or losing your hair. People don't like you because of you. Because you're angry and stubborn and violent and always hopped up on coke."
There was little arguing with a statement like that, but Billy's features trembled in a look of horror and rage, his mouth opening and closing a couple times befor he managed to speak, "Maybe they aren't worth me bloody time!!" He staggered backward away from both women as fast as his gimpy, half tentacle-like legs could manage, tripping and stumbling on the uneven gnarled dirt of his forsaken garden.
Antony couldn't help but silently agree with Aubrey, though she did take pleasure in the fact that she too was angry, stubborn, and violent. And people liked her. Her conclusion was it must be the coke, and this satisfied her somewhat. "I'd say it's the coke mostly... Considering I'm not ******** boy scout and not hated by all."
She paused a moment, before looking between the pair, eyes settling on Billy, "Jesus, ******** calm down already... Please?"
Aubrey flicked her gaze over to Antony and shrugged, looking back at the retreating octoman. "That's right," she sneered. "Its obvious that everyone else is no where good enough for you." She motioned at him, rolling her eyes. "Why didn't I see that before." She turned and headed to the door, though she looked like she was seeing if anyone would try to stop more than any real desire to get out of there. "This is just a waste of time."
He continued untill he came to the edge of his make-shift fence and nearly fell as he tried to climb over it. It was as though he was trying to run away from Aubrey's accusations when he knew deep down that she was right. Of course he didn't want to admit it! He couldn't admit it! They had no idea what they were talking about! Antony just wanted to use him for sex. Whatever boy toy she had been busying herself with the past few months hadn't put out, and so it was off to Billy for a quick, reliable shag. Just a friend. Nothing more. A friend with benifits. And what the ******** did Aubrey care? She was one of them! One of the people doing this to them! His crutch got caught on a thick knot of uncut grass, pulling out from under his webbed armpit and did indeed dump him to the ground in a tangled heap of cepholopodian limbs.
When he spilled, Antony cursed under her breath and immediately moved to help him right himself. She felt horrible for putting him through this, guilty even, but deep down, she knew it was the best to get him off coke.
He'd be a much better person, inking while snogging aside, and she felt that she, among several others, would be more inclined to visit him more regularly. Had he not been as distraught as he was currently, he'd probably be able to notice that Antony actually did care. If she hadn't, she would have stopped and left the moment a bit of ink dribbled from his chin. But she knew what it felt like to be self conscious of one's changes, and wasn't mean enough to just rile him up and then up and leave him. In fact, if it had been someone other than Billy in the same situation, she probably would have left, disgusted and ready for an immediate shower. But, she cared for Billy, and the guilt would have gotten to her not long after had she left him high and dry.
Aubrey reached for the handle to the door, but couldn't help but look over at the commotion. She cursed under her breath as she saw Billy on the ground and Antony rushing to help him. She tried to ignore it for half a beat, but instead found herself joining Antony by his side, kneeling down beside him, giving him a sad, pitying look.
"Leave me alone! Ye've done enough!" Billy snarled, trying to shake them off of him weakly. The wetness that had been left in hsi features looked to be drying out in the afternoon heat. He needed water. Moreau was probably watching, waiting, seething in his skin to see the red-headed woman there with the octopus man. How worse could things get from now? What would happen if he spilled everything? There was no doubt now that the continuation of his supplies would be nullified anyway, either by Moreau himself, or by Aubrey. What was the point in continuing to push her away?
She simply rolled her eyes at Billy's comment, and it was obvious that she wasn't going anywhere regardless of how much he cursed at her and struggled. "You may think I don't care about you, but unfortunately, I do. So stop bitching."
Aubrey motioned to Antony, looking at Billy. "See? If you'd just open your goddamned eyes, you might notice there are people who do give a damn. Imagine how many more might if you'd give them have a chance."
Despite her words, her tone and eyes were much softer than they had been a moment before.
Finally, Billy made a decision. He stopped struggling, limbs limp in their arms, his crutches dropping on either side of him. His mouth twisted into a smile once more, a quiet, bitter sort of smile as he began to laugh.
Blinking at his sudden change in attitude, Antony watched him warily, tails continuing their movements behind her.
Aubrey blinked, looking as confused as he started to laugh. She shifted her weight and tried to pull Billy up a bit, making sure he was in no danger of falling into the dirt. She threw an uneasy glance at Antony before looking back to him.
"S'really funny," He managed finally.
She had expected something a little more than just... that. Antony glanced down at him before mirroring Aubrey and offering two hands up. Strangely, she looked more worried than annoyed now.
Aubrey swallowed, debating whether or not she should even ask. "What's funny, Billy?"
"He tried so hard, y'know? An' th'thing is... I jes' don' care anymore. He said t'act mad if'n I had t' bu' it aint worth it. I fecked either way, so wha' the hell?"
Antony stayed silent, and simply watched the exchange between them for now.
Aubrey's brows knit as she listened, trying to catch what he was saying between his disjointed articulation and heavy accent.
"Who said to act mad? Moreau? Mad at what, Billy? What's not worth it?" She was so confused, and her frustration was bubbling to the surface again. There were ten thousand scenarios running through her head and none of them were very good.
"Yer hubby gave me th'blow, lass!" He snapped, laughing even harder now, "T'get me t'stay away from ye! Thank y'Lass," He turned to Antony with a nod. "Fer callin' her here an' save me a load o' heartache an' trouble!"
"Since when would you have 'heartache' with the woman who sliced off one of your balls?" She snapped, turning to give Aubrey a hard gaze, as if she were trying to detect what else was going on. Soon, she got irritated and just looked back to Billy, putting her hands on her hips while waiting for an answer.
Aubrey's eyes widened a little, before glaring knives back at Antony for a moment.
"I got that he gave you the drugs. I'm just.. I'm not sure what you're saying about why…" Aubrey felt the color draining from her face, her voice losing its confidence, which kept her from continuing.
As the look of comprehention came over her, Billy laughed even harder. "WATCHOUT! William th'heartbreaker's on th'loose!" He was sick, he was tired, he was dehydrated, he was still buzzed, and he was ready to go back inside. He hated himself. He hated this island. He hated these women, he hated all women, he hated everything.
Antony ground her teeth, returning Aubrey's glare in full, and then some. She wasn't sure where her anger was stemming from, but she pinned it on the fact that she was emotionally drained and her patience had worn out. That was her story and she was sticking to it.
"You're sick," Aubrey said, after she replaced her confused expression with a more deadpan one. "And you look hot. We… we need to get you inside." Aubrey stood up, struggling to bring Billy up with her.
"He's afraid ye'll feck me an' like it better! Wha' d'ye think, Antony? Maybe th'two o' ye can swap stories an' then we'll see! Or maybe he's scared cause I'm bigger. Tha' it, do y't'ink? Is he watchin' now, d'y't'ink?"
I'll get back to you when I get the ink stains out of my fur," she commented dryly, tails lashing behind her as she attempted to keep her anger at bay. "Well if he's watching now Billy, why don't you finish the show you started with her months ago? That'll be sure to tweak some nerves."
Aubrey did her best to ignore Billy's crudeness, avoiding his eyes and trying to pull him in the direction of the duplex.
Her eyes twitched, though, at Antony's words, looking back at her dangerously. "Please, don't encourage him when he's like this."
His tentacles wound around both women's arms and waists, elegedly for support, although they squeezed and clung in ways that were rather unsettling for a woman.
"I hope he's watchin'! I hope he's watchin' an' I hope he's seethin'!"
Her eyes widened, but she simply ignored both his gropings and Aubrey's scolding, attempting to shift an arm around him for added support. "You do know he's probably going to chop off the rest of your equipment right? Or something equally as cruel, probably."
"No, he won't," Aubrey snapped. "He's not that paranoid. Billy's sick, he doesn't know what he's saying is all."
Aubrey also shifted a bit under his touch, but she was too determined to get him inside to argue. She led him towards the water bed of his, knowing he needed to stay moist.
"Why don'cha' ask him, then?" Billy turned to hiss into her ear as he leaned on both of them, slipping a leg into the water.
"It's called denial," she stated curtly to Aubrey, "And I'd be shocked if there wasn't some sort of punishment for breaking the supposed agreement." If Antony saw the nibble, she was doing her damnedest to seem like she hadn't.
"I am going to talk to him," she said to Billy, helping him in. "I'm going to put a stop to this.. whatever the hell is going on. You don't need this s**t … why did you agree to that in the first place?"
She shook her head, already knowing the answer. That's what druggies did.
She looked to Antony. "I'll take the punishment," she said between clenched teeth. "I'm the one who came here."
"Oh good, he can cut off yer balls this time," The octopus cackled, slipping into the water with a sigh. His standard color was starting to come back, but his nerves were still shot.
"I don' care wha' he does t'me no more."
An eyebrow cocked in Aubrey's direction, muzzle forming into a thin line. "Be careful what you wish for." She sighed and ran her hands over her face and then into her hair, looking over to Billy with a bit of pity. "Well, I'm going to wash the sheets since I stripped them already." Suddenly, she thought it best to get out of there. Now that he was safe in his tank.
"Very funy," she said to him sarcastically as she grabbed a towel off the floor and sank it into the water, dabbing at Billy's forehead and squeezing some of the water into his hair.
"I know what I'm doing," she lied to Antony.
"Please. Jes' leave me th'feck alone," He finally sighed, sinking deeper into the water moodily, his previous merriment gone like so many of his mood swings.
"You're a bad liar," she murmured, looking over to Billy with a frown as she stuffed the sheets and whatnot into one of the pillow cases. "I'll drop these off tomorrow." The doctor received a hard look of either pity or slight distaste, either way it was a generally sour look. And at a loss for words, Antony simply gave Billy a nod and headed for the front door.
Aubrey set the towel down with a sigh. "Fine," she said heavily. "I don't know what else you want me to do." She stood up and gave him a long, forlorn look before turning to head out as well.
He didn't answer, keeping his eyes down at his tentacles swirling in the water. Who cared what those dumb women thought about him? They would just use him like everyone did. He was done being used. He was even more tired of that than of people trying to get him to quit smoking, snorting and anything else he found made life tolerable. His old boss had used him, Edel had used him, everyone used him. That would stop. Moreau watned to cut off his last testical? Fine. Cut off his d**k? Fine. Cut off all of his limbs? Fine. Leave him soemwhere to die slowly and painfully? What the hell, why not? At least it woudl be his own choice.
One last sigh, and Antony left, dirty laundry in tow. She was utterly exhausted, and had simply had enough.
Aubrey made a decision to talk to Billy once he was sober. And privately. Somehow.
