damned_institute | Day 56: North Street (Morning)

Entry tags:

Day 56: North Street (Morning)

Maybe it was the sudden influx of normality (or what passed as such a thing here) along with the townspeople, but it barely took a few minutes before Hope couldn't stand to be walking along the shops down the street anymore. He didn't want to listen to people laugh and coo over gossip and shopping lists, with their smiles and happily ever after.

Instead, it was the iciness of the snow that interested him, even as he shivered within his oversized hoodie. He had never experienced weather this cold before, enough to freeze the puddles around street corners and rain ice from the skies. He would stick to the empty streets and fields, covered in a layer of white that seemed so deceptive. The noise of the town seemed to fade away these two streets away, giving way to the chirping of birds in the morning and the slight crunch of snow under his shoes. It made such a strange sound when he stepped in an untouched pile, and Hope deliberately took his time making his way down the street just so he could stick with stepping on piles of untouched snow as opposed to the areas where the snow had been cleared into a path.

He found an old bench outside the fields and tried to brush the snow off the seat with a sleeve, rubbing his hands together every few seconds to try to warm them up again. It took a few tries before he sat down, wincing at the cold before drawing his legs up and finally getting to the bag that had been given to him.

There, in the hush of the streets and the cold, he finally allowed himself to breathe freely. Before, it had been running and running... and even when he got here, it felt like he was still running. Running away and trying to figure out what was going on... not that he felt he knew anymore than he did before.

He pulled out the muffin from the bag as his stomach grumbled, thoughts continuously going over what he had learned this morning. While the food turned out to be cold (he really should have expected that), it was a welcome distraction from everything.

[For Elfangor.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Anise felt a little bad after parting ways with Hope. The kid already looked like he had a ton of worries, and she'd just given him a few more things to worry about. On the bright side, though, he was more informed, and she hoped that meant he'd be more prepared for the bad stuff to come.

For now, Anise had to figure out what she wanted to do with her time in Doyleton. The card she was given was apparently worth twenty-five dollars... From doing lots of window-shopping during the previous field trips, Anise had a vague idea of how much that was. It wouldn't buy her much that was useful, but then again, the shop owners probably wouldn't sell her much that was useful anyway.

It didn't hurt to look around, though. Maybe she'd find something handy, or maybe she'd just find something cute. Either way, it was best to spend the money, since she probably wasn't going to get to keep the card after the day was over.

Since Anise usually went for the central streets first, this time she made her way straight to North Street. It wasn't long before she stumbled across an antique store she hadn't really noticed before. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the shine of expensive-looking trinkets. Without really thinking, she drew closer to the shop windows, peering in at the wares inside.

[For Ilia]

Meeting new patients was always a bittersweet occasion for Ilia. On the one hand, she always enjoyed creating bonds with new friends, and on the other hand, the institute was the last place she would wish upon anyone. Still, it had cheered her to think maybe she had been able to ease Matthew's burden just the tiniest bit with her words.

Ilia smiled sardonically as she ambled her way through the streets of the small town of Doyleton. Validation in others, just what her Shadowself had mocked her for a few nights ago. Ilia shook her head, the snow falling from her blond hair, and she put it out of her mind. She felt happier today, possibly because of the trip away from the institute itself. And the snow, though sad in its own way, reminded Ilia of her time with Captain, Roddick, Millie, and all the others back on Roak. Silvalant had been covered in snow. Despite the dangerous monsters, it had been a beautiful country and filled with wonderful people. And not to mention the delicious and strong alcohol the northerners were famed for brewing.

Ilia turned on to a new street, wondering if she might find herself a drink somewhere while she was here, then spotted Anise. The girl was clad in a bright pink jacket and seemed to be peering into the windows of a shop labeled 'Mountain Antiques.' The lack of Anise's constant companion, the doll Tokunaga, caught Ilia's attention as she neared her young friend. She fought the compassionate smile that threatened to overtake her, and instead did her best to look as neutrally friendly as possible. No need to remind the girl that the institute's new management seemed to have no concept of sentimentality.

"Good day, Anise. See something nice?" Ilia looked through the window herself. Was that a phonograph she could see a little deeper in the shop?

The sound of a familiar voice pulled Anise's attention away from the window, and she whirled around to face the source. Just as she thought, it was Ilia. Anise's face brightened in an instant. It had been a few days since she last saw Ilia, but her friend looked like she was doing all right. That was a big relief to see, considering how abruptly some of her friends had disappeared before.

"You could say that!" she replied cheerfully. "There's lots of expensive-looking stuff, and some things I've never seen before." Some kind of Earth artifacts, she guessed. That was pretty exciting to think about. Even if her little allowance probably wouldn't buy her any treasures, she couldn't help but feel eager to go take a look at them.

"Anyway, how've you been? Got anything planned for today?" Some scary stuff had happened a couple nights ago, and then there was the military takeover, so Anise imagined things weren't going too smoothly for Ilia, but hopefully things weren't going too badly, either.

Seeing Anise's cheerful face added to Ilia's warm mood. She found herself smiling right back.

"It probably has a lot of expensive things, but how knows? It might surprise you what you find." Antiques were a bit touch and go in both price and quality, from Ilia's experience. She was typically a practical shopper herself. "No harm in looking, of course."

"I'm doing fine, actually." Ilia shook her head, more snow sloughing out of her hair. The windbreaker wasn't doing much to keep the cold out either, though it kept her dry. She wrapped her arms around herself.

"I haven't thought much about today. I didn't know we were going on a trip." She was used to the military regime; that should could understand and cope with. But a trip? How... unusually thoughtful of them, to provide a break for all the patients.

It was nice to hear Ilia confirm that she was doing all right. There was always the chance that she was sweeping some things under the rug (as Anise was often guilty of doing), but for the moment, she looked well enough that Anise could be satisfied with the answer.

"Oh, right. You've never been here before, huh?" It was weird to think that for as good friends as they were, Anise only knew Ilia for less than a week. "They usually bring us here once a week. The money's new, though!" She pulled her card out of her jacket pocket and waved it once to show, grinning at the thought of finally getting to do more than just window shopping.

Ilia was encouraging Anise to take a look, so she figured it only made sense to invite her to join her. Besides, Ilia's knowledge of Earth could help Anise identify some of the weird stuff in the store. "Wanna come in with me? We might not be able to buy much in there, but it looks like it could be really interesting!"

Ilia vaguely remembered Berg or whoever announcing today's trip as a weekly excursion, but Ilia hadn't been warned at all beforehand about the trip until morning had arrived. Not that she was complaining. A trip to a town, even one this small, was a welcome sight after nearly a week stuck inside the institute.

Seeing Anise so cheerful about a few dollars cash made Ilia chuckle. She knew she barely had enough for a bauble or two at best, but a little money was better than nothing.

"Sure. Let's go on in." Ilia nodded and, holding the door open for Anise to walk on through, entered the Antique shop without much more ado.

Snow. How strange. Even in his time on Earth, Elfangor had not experienced snow first hand, only seen it portrayed on television programs. It had looked interesting, but that idle thought had done nothing to prepare him for how cold and wet it was, or how difficult it was to trudge through the slushy substance while maintaining his balance.

Still, it was a vast improvement to be outdoors, and so, cold as he was even bundled up in the clothes provided for him, he decided against seeking out warmth indoors, at least for now. He needed to think, and walking could only help with that, even if some of his attention was necessarily diverted to keeping traction on the walkway.

His feet led him almost subconsciously toward the fields, as he wasn't truly paying attention to where he was going. Elfangor supposed it was only natural for the open space to draw him there, even if the grass was buried under snow. He could not have eaten it anyway, not with human feet.

But oh, he didn't want to think about that. He needed a diversion, and so when he saw someone sitting on a bench not far off, he headed over toward him. Elfangor noticed the way he shivered, and could not help but feel concerned. "Hello. Do you mind if I sit here as well?"

He looked up from the middle of his muffin, having peeled parts of it away in chucks before eating it, if only trying to figure out how long it would last him. It certainly hadn't felt like a meal to him, especially after not having eaten the past two days--

Hope shook his head at the question, scooting over slightly on the bench, keeping his legs up the entire time to conserve warmth. He fumbled a bit to prevent the muffin from falling off his knees, but other than that and shivering at the new cold spot, it didn't seem to bother him at all.

He wasn't sure if the person was someone from town or the hospital, but from the clothing it seemed the latter. Still, he wasn't one to speak up because of a presumption, especially if he didn't have enough of a basis to back it up.

Elfangor sat beside him, curling his arms around himself to ward off the cold, curious at the silence despite his apparent acceptance.

Although he was familiar enough with human clothing to identify the different types and functions of them, it was much more difficult to pinpoint the differences that might indicate anything useful in identifying this person as a fellow hospital inmate. But what did give him a clue was the paper bag and muffin, which he knew they'd all been given, though he'd certainly inhaled his in a hurry. He couldn't help it, he hadn't enjoyed human food in far too long to resist the overpowering sense of taste.

Even so, he couldn't be sure based on just that observation, and so he asked, "Are you from the hospital as well?"

He looked up again from his muffin, wondering if he should save the rest for lunch or whether he should just eat it now in order to appease his hunger. But it seemed like the more he ate, the hungrier he got... at least that was what his stomach wanted to tell him. Two days without food and constantly on the run... now that he had started to eat again, it felt like he had poked at a sleeping beast.

"Yeah," he responded, soft but surprised. Guess he shouldn't have been, though... his own clothes felt like a dead give-away. But... as well. It was almost a relief. Someone he could talk to, even if it was just to confirm what others had already told him-- another world, another universe.

He scuffed his shoes against the bench, kicking at the bit of snow remaining, trying to get it further away from him. As nice as the snow seemed, it was still really cold.

"I-- did you just... wake up here, too?"

"Yes, I woke up here this morning with no idea how I came to be here. I assume it was much the same for you?" And everyone else here. What was this place? There had to be more to it than there appeared to be. He had some clue, from the vague warning he'd received earlier about the futility of trying to escape at night, but the lack of details was more ominous than reassuring.

In addition to that nagging worry, he could not help but feel a sharp pang of concerned for this person, particularly at the way he picked at his muffin; though his actions belied a disinterest in eating, his eyes told a much different story. But he couldn't be sure, and pointing it out would likely only make him more uncomfortable, so Elfangor opted to take a more... indirect route, to see if he was correct in his assessment.

"I've heard that the hospital was recently taken over by some sort of militia force. It is strange that they would continue to provide things such as this outing, which I understand is not necessary but gives the impression of continued 'normalcy' at the institution." He flipped through his coupon booklet in bemusement. "The free meals I somewhat understand, but facials? Manicures? It just seems a bit odd."

He nodded, but then shook his head, unable to decide on his own answer. "I got here... last night, I think? I don't know. It was all dark."

Completely dark. Darker than anything he'd ever experienced before. Hope had never known the world could be darker than when he closed his eyes, but he had been proven wrong last night. There had been no night lights, no glimmer of stars in the sky and no glow from the land. It had been... frightening, to say the least.

"I heard about the military." At least, he had just heard about that from Anise. She had tried to explain things to him, but it was still confusing. And the most important questions (why they were here, and how to get home) went unanswered seeing as no one seemed to know. "Maybe they're trying to pretend that they haven't taken over."

His curiosity was peaked at the coupon booklet, though, and he leaned over just slightly, shifting in his seat. He hadn't gone through his bag yet, especially since the first thing he had seen was the muffin, but... "Free meals?"

He inclined his head. "If they aim to make things appear as normal from an outsider's perspective, then perhaps there is potential assistance to be found in the outside world. Alternatively, garnering too much attention could just allow a stronger and possibly even less benevolent force to take over. It is difficult to say. But they must be fairly confident in our unwillingness to take that risk, if they are allowing us out, even with covert supervision."

When he glanced over at his coupon booklet, Elfangor gave a small smile. "Yes, it seems we can obtain two free meals during this outing, at establishments called Twin Pines and Tasty Burger. I suppose it would not do for them to allow their prisoners to go hungry--no telling what sort of trouble humans might be inclined to cause when their needs are not adequately met."

It was only after he'd made the attempt at a joke that he realized that saying humans in this context might give indication that he did not strictly fall within that category. Well. Perhaps he might overlook it.

Hope might have reacted badly to the idea of someone not being human once upon a time, and there was still a part of him that recoiled at the thought... but with the knowledge of different worlds (and the knowledge that l'Cie weren't human anymore), he couldn't bring himself to linger on the thought. Instead, what seemed more important had been the thought of food, and free food.

Two places? He would have to walk around town, then, rather than just settling himself up here. It only took him a moment to wonder if he really wanted to wander among people in search for food, but his stomach was more than ready to make that decision for him.

"Prisoners, huh?" Maybe that's what they really were, rather than hospital patients. It would explain things just as well, after all. (He was wondering, however, what kind of food they would have at a place called Twin Pines.) "I wonder why they'd actually want us as prisoners, though..."

His head was still spinning when he stepped off the bus, half of him stuck on Dean and the other half stuck on finding Ruby. She wasn't gonna be easy to talk to, either, but at least he wasn't as worried about pushing her. Not the way he was with Dean. It'd always been different with Ruby. Kind of.

He'd be lying if he said he hadn't noticed the similarities between her and Dean, even back when she'd been the blonde.

(The blonde, Jesus. He hadn't even known the girl's name. Had it actually been Ruby or had that just been a name Ruby had picked out from a telephone book?)

Sam zipped up his jacket against the cold and shoved his hands in his pockets. The snow was pretty fresh still, enough that he was leaving new sets of footprints as he walked. He was glad to be back in jeans for the day, though. The strict uniforms just...wasn't what he was used to.

Right, and he had some money to spend, too, didn't he? The soldier had warned "within reason" when he'd explained what the card was, though he hadn't needed to for Sam to get that he wasn't gonna have free run to buy a box of ammo. And he wasn't so in need of weapons that he had to purchase a workaround for improvisation. Which pretty much left...lock picks. Not a proper lock pick, obviously, since he doubted he'd get away with even that much. But something sturdier than what he'd had originally.

Plus, it'd sorta disappeared with the Trickster when the night cut out on them. Sam could always get it back, but he'd rather not waste his time if he could replace it with something better.

He paused, reorienting himself. He'd only been in town a few times, but he didn't remember the hardware store being this far up ahead. It was probably a couple streets down, then.

Brushing snow out of his hair, he started back. With any luck, he'd run into Ruby on the way. The trip to town was a nice opportunity, both to get away from the institute for once and to, uh, obtain supplies, but it was damn near impossible to look for people.

[for Venom]

Edited 2011-05-05 07:22 (UTC)

[I'm sorry this is so late!]

The bus had barely come to a stop when Venom had moved out of his seat, the threat of suppression being the only reason he hadn't taken to moving toward the doors as well. By the time the last passenger had shuffled off the vehicle's steps, the assassin was long gone from the area.

He couldn't waste time today. He knew he told himself that every day, but it was far more true now than it ever was inside those asylum walls. He had a mission. He couldn't fail it, not for anything.

His pace was quick as he walked, ignoring everything in his path in favor of a solitary goal. Nothing and no one else mattered right now. The hotel was around here somewhere, wasn't it? It hadn't been a top priority when he and Edward scouted the town before, but he still recalled its location; enough so to find it with the sun down. The memory of that frantic night moved his hand to press against his side, the wounds once there having healed much too soon for only a week. It was disturbing, really. The tears shouldn't have fixed themselves like that. He needed the reminder...

His hand dropped from his side, reached into his coat's pocket to retrieve the photo he'd brought, and his eyes drifted to the smiling face staring blindly back at him. I'll find you, Master Zato... It felt like he might as well have been treading through the larger drifts of snow the way his stride came to a snail's pace, all his attention slowly focusing on one thought.

Unfortunately, he had started walking through a larger drift of snow. The brief display of emotion was quickly dispelled the moment his right foot found a hidden patch of ice and his regained sense of awareness was not enough to correct the loss of balance. On the more positive side of things, he never had to hit the ground--he was too busy slamming into another body for that to happen, the force of which allowed the photograph to spill out of his fingers.

Edited 2011-05-07 23:23 (UTC)

The streets were quiet enough and the town itself familiar enough that Sam wasn't really paying attention to anyone else walking around, as long as their faces were not a) Dean, b) Ruby, or c) one of the angels. It was nice, in a way, to just have the quiet crunch of snow beneath his boots to focus on.

Though that one time the Impala had plowed off the road into a snowbank in the middle of the night, that had been. A little less nice, let's just put it that way.

He took another step and looked over just in time to see someone slip and pitch in his direction.

Oh cra—

It was too late to brace himself much, but one of the things about being half a foot taller than most people was that it was difficult to knock him down. He caught the guy with a grunt before either of them could wind up sitting in the snow. Out of the corner of his eye, something fluttered to the ground.

Only then did he realize that he recognized the man. He hadn't gotten a name the last time they'd met. Honestly, he wasn't even sure if "met" was the right word there. It'd been pretty awkward all around, what with the falling and the ice cream and...yeah. All Sam knew was that this had been a friend of Edward's or something.

"Are you okay? You—" He bent down to pick up the...photograph, he saw it was now. He brushed off the bit of snow on it and handed it over, already recording the details he'd caught. Blond, male, and what was that on...? "—dropped this." He offered a small smile.

It was most likely sad, but the Guild Head hardly recognized the fact that he'd been caught mid-impact. There were too many angered thoughts buzzing through his head the instant he slipped, each one louder than the last and all self-berating. Of course, when he did realize the situation, most all those thoughts circled into one thing: get away.

As grateful as he might have been for the stranger to not simply let him fall, Venom had never been known to respond well to others touching him. As quickly as possible, he pulled himself back to his feet (he'd slipped onto one knee during the fall. There was a sharp pain on impact, but he couldn't feel it anymore. Whether the snow had numbed it or it was just that insignificant would have to be investigated later) and took large steps back in order to reclaim his personal space. "I'm fine," he said without looking up, untangling his right arm from his scarf--

Where is...?!

That photograph had been in his hand a moment ago, he was sure. A mixed look of concern and panic struck the man's face from under his sunglasses, and mouth curled down into a barely open frown. Had he dropped it? He couldn't lose that, he needed--

Oh.

He gingerly pried the paper away as the stranger handed it over, expression fading back into practiced apathy. "Thank you." Now that he finally looked at him, the man's face was familiar--he was too tall to forget--though no name came with that recognition. They had met, he was sure, but he couldn't place when. So with all the grace and truthfulness of a born leader, Venom placed the picture back into his coat pocket and stared blankly up at his 'savior.' "I don't know who you are."

When the man pulled away, Sam easily let him go and didn't try closing the distance between them. It didn't seem like the guy was trying to be rude about it, so Sam figured it was just one of those things. The sunglasses during a decidedly un-sunny day sort of said it all, anyway.

Besides, he was curious now. That look on the man's face told him enough about how much the person in that photograph meant to him and he couldn't help wondering where the picture had come from in the first place. Personal items didn't circulate all that often. He remembered Peter had pulled out of a photo from Nathan's file, but that one had looked clinical. This one didn't. Who was it in that picture? Why had the man taken the photograph with him to town? He'd had it out to look at while he'd been walking, or he wouldn't have dropped it, so...

Maybe he could find out. It didn't hurt to try, right? His new companion didn't come off like the bubbly friendly type, but he wasn't hostile, either. Sam could work with that. He'd sure as hell worked with a lot worse, at least.

And yeah, he did count his brother on that list. Probably twice.

He'd had his hands in his jacket pockets, but he held one out now. "I'm Sam. We haven't officially met, but I." He paused. His polite smile turned sheepish with a touch of awkward. "Fell into your table last week. At the diner."

This week, Venom fell into him. He was starting to see the theme here.

The diner...?

Oh, yes. He remembered now. It'd been raining that day, and the man-- Sam-- must have slipped on the wet tiles. Edward had reacted in a hostile fashion, so Venom made a quick exit from the vicinity: it hadn't been any of his business. He hadn't heard anything after the fact, so the situation must have defused itself.

The assassin's head tilted to the side as he put the information in the back of his mind. It hadn't been important then and, aside from the connection to the person standing in front of him now, it still wasn't at the moment. With some hesitation, he pulled his hand back out of his pocket and took the taller man's, shaking it firmly. "Venom." The moment the introduction was over it slipped back into his coat, thumb running along the side of the photograph still lying within it.

This wasn't what he'd planned to do with his time. "Thank you again," he repeated, and he bowed at the waist in repetitive politeness. "I apologize for disturbing you, but I have something I need to do. Excuse me." After straightening himself, he stepped to the side, fully prepared to leave.

Venom? That wasn't a name you heard everyday. Maybe his parents were really into Spider-Man.

Sam blinked when Venom bowed, not quite expecting it, but he recovered soon enough to take a step forward when Venom started to leave.

"Wait," he said. "I'm sorry, I couldn't help noticing... That picture, are you looking for him?"

He wasn't sure if he'd be welcome, but it was worth a shot. He couldn't shake the feeling that maybe he could give a hand with whatever it was Venom needed to do and more than that, it'd been a long time since he'd done anything like that. He'd been so preoccupied with Dean, and God, it hadn't done much good in the end, had it? Not enough good, at least. If he couldn't help his brother right now, he could try it with someone else.

He wondered, too, if he was right about Venom searching for the man, what made him think his friend would be in town. Had he shown up as a visitor, then? Peter had said that Nathan had been brainwashed when he came by as a visitor, so it made sense that one would think the patients had to be staying somewhere nearby. The town was one place to start.

Though it raised the question of why some patients would be kept that way and others simply left to vanish. He kept trying to factor in the altverse aspect, but that didn't make it a whole lot easier to pull apart. All it did was introduce more variables.

It shouldn't have happened. Assassins were trained from the very beginning to show nothing of their emotions and intentions. But the instant those words came from Sam's mouth, a spike of defensiveness shot through Venom's spine and irritation glazed over his eyes. He never could control his emotions when it was about Him.

As they had during the collision, the paranoid thoughts rushed back; this time directed toward a victim other than himself. Venom's personal agenda was none of Sam's business--interfering was only foolish and particularly rude. He'd given no hints that he wanted to be helped. What right did he even have to look over the leader of the Assassin's Guild belongings? This man had no reason, none what-so-ever, to jump on board.

Unless...

They were only staying at the inn for the visit, Millia had said, and planned leaving the morning after. Waiting that amount of time suggested traveling a long distance. If it were that way, they very well could have arrived in the town the day before he actually saw them: the day he first met this stranger.

...had Sam seen him?

The irritation melted and he turned his head downward, casually wiping the remaining snow from the legs of his pants in an effort to appear nonchalant. "Yes." Despite all efforts, the word came slow and measured, as if it didn't want to leave his mouth. He had no idea what this man wanted him for. He could have easily just been curious. Whatever it is, that's all he needs to know.

Did he say not hostile? He might have to take that back soon.

Still, as much as Sam wasn't one to pry, sometimes he...okay, under the right circumstances, he was one to pry. He'd say it came with being a hunter, but he knew that wasn't the only reason for it. He'd always asked too many questions and he'd apparently become immune at an early age to Dad telling him to keep his mouth shut and just do as he was told.

"You don't have to tell me anything about it," he said gently. "But if you wanted, I could help you canvass. No questions, I promise. I just wanna help."

There'd been a second when he'd debated telling Venom he'd had experience with missing persons cases, but he decided he probably shouldn't risk it if he didn't have to. He'd already played the college-student-on-an-extended-road-trip card (with a bonus during-which-my-brother-died in Peter's case) to enough people in the institute that he shouldn't break it if he could help it. He wasn't rolling from town to town here; swapping out identities wasn't the best plan.

Well. Hopefully, Venom would let him in. If not, Sam knew he couldn't press it any further. In the end, he'd just met the guy for about five minutes and there was a part of him that understood that his persistence wasn't just about Venom. It was about him, too. And he couldn't shove his issues onto a stranger like that. It wouldn't be fair.

Venom's eyes narrowed into a disbelieving stare. He never trusted the 'I just want to help' excuse. That line was reserved for "heroes" and liars and, while an assassin didn't particularly have any higher ground, he could stand neither one of those. They only served to get in his way and make his life difficult, and considering the current circumstances he was going to kindly decline the presence of any more roadblocks.

But the man seemed sincere, uncomfortably so. He couldn't understand why--by all accounts, they were strangers with one possible and, most likely, mutually strained connection. He never asked for help or signaled that he needed any. So why was he currently on the receiving end of a look a sad puppy would give? Why did Sam care?

Maybe he was just the hero type, compulsively swinging in the moment he thought someone needed assistance. Hmph. For the strange things he'd been through, Venom never assumed he'd find one of those types trying to help him.

In the end, he continued his previous task of walking around the man. "Follow me if you want," he called back, never actually turning to face the other side of the conversation. "Just keep your questions to yourself." It would be easier with two people. That was the only thing that mattered.

Sam had been on the receiving end of that look more times than he could count, but he'd be lying if he said it wasn't always gonna be kinda awkward when it happened. Sticking with it, though, usually proved worth the effort. Usually. And if not, the worst that went down was that the other guy thought he was an idiot and Sam...felt like said idiot, which honestly wasn't that bad all things considered. "All things" being the multiple ways that his job could rapidly go downhill.

As it turned out, Venom relented. He didn't look like he trusted Sam a whole lot, but Sam wasn't expecting him to. He knew that if someone had come up to him like this, chances were high he would've turned them away, but...you know. What did that make him?

Maybe he just liked to believe that most of the world had more faith than he managed after everything.

"Yeah, all right. No problem," he agreed simply. He slipped his hands into his pockets, away from the frosty cold, and fell into step beside Venom. There were a few seconds of silence. Then: "One of my friends, someone close to him went missing, too," he said. "I know he's still looking, so..."

Okay, he didn't know in the sense that Peter ever told him that specifically, but Peter didn't have to. They were brothers and the way Peter spoke about Nathan said enough. When it came to family, you didn't ever stop looking, even after you'd already buried the body.

Oh. Sam actually was following him.

Despite his surprise, Venom never turned his head to face him, taking the sound of shoes crushing snow underfoot as proof enough. As they grew nearer and eventually came to a steady pace beside his own steps, he briefly glanced at the man out of the corner of his eye.

He was entirely too tall. He had noticed it before, but it was almost insulting, being so literally looked down on. It felt like being a child again and that was something he had no need to recapture any time soon.

He stayed silent as Sam spoke on, the slight tilt of the assassin's head being the only sign that he'd actually been listening (and not merely scrutinizing the man's height). Is that what he was determined to step in for? Perhaps he'd misunderstood the offer, then. It wasn't an act of heroics: it was only a selfish desire for answers and an opportunity to find them via a different source than expected.

That was far easier to swallow, really.

"That seems to be a reoccurring problem," he offered eventually, if only to not drive away the company through perceived indifference.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Day 56: North Street (Morning)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject