mistconduct | Issue #76 [Text]

Issue #76 [Text]

Creed attacked Cassel today. Cassel's dead. I'm putting him in Zero and I'm going to put steps in place to make sure he doesn't get the chance to get at anyone again. Don't really have a whole hell of a lot to say aside from that, but just..be aware, I guess. He's a dangerous creep and I don't have a full handle on him yet. Obviously. This one's my fuck-up, guys. I'm owning it. I should've planned better for this shit. Just..bare with me while I get the hang of this. [Private to Dillon] I need you to help bring him back. Please.

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[Dillon's nailed it - Chris really wouldn't be in a right state of mind if he weren't cracking shitty puns. He gives a grimace and tries to keep his food down when he sees the body, and turns to stare at the door, ignoring the sounds and the smells]

You do this a lot? Before the Barge, I mean.

Yeah. I spent months doing it, on and off. There's always demand.

[Some of the pallor is already leaving Cassel's face from Dillon's touch - and his hair is looking more neatly combed, too - but it all ramps up when he adds a nudge of intention, nerves and bone and muscle and skin all suddenly adhering to where they were before. The cut vanishes, seamless, scarless, like it never was. Another little tug, and his soul reignites, or returns from wherever it was held, blinking back on like a light switch.]

[Chris turns around, his red eyes widening a little as he sees the fully put together form of his dead boyfriend, mute with shock]

[It's just like blinking - like one second he was being eviscerated and the next second he's sitting up abruptly, gasping, his eyes wide, heart pounding, so alive he can hardly stand it.]

What, [he says, looking up at Chris like Dillon isn't even there,] the fuck?

[He sort of scoots out of the way, because yeah, his job is mostly done here.]

....Cassel?

[Holy fuck - talk about your night of the living dead. Chris creeps a little closer, nervously]

You, uhm.

How do you feel?

Um.

[He swallows a couple times, looking down at his hands. The gloves still have blood on them. Fuck.]

Woozy. And. Fuck.

I died, didn't I?

..Yeah. Fucking Creed, man.

Dillon brought you back.

Fucking Creed, [he echoes, like it's all he knows how to say. Then he looks to Dillon for the first time, as though he's just noticed him.]

Thanks, man. I-- thanks.

It's cool. Just glad I could help.

You're probably still anemic, though. I can give you an old-fashioned transfusion sometime if you're not up for red meat right now.

...Fuck.

Yeah, just. Whatever you want to do, man.

[The mention of red meat makes him go a little green. He puts one hand over his stomach, protective.]

Yeah, I think - I think I need to just go . . .

[Hide? Hide.]

I'll get an IV ready for you. You can come by whenever.

[A soft murmur. Whenever it's okay.]

...yeah, I've. gotta go too.

[gotta go check on his stupid inmate]

I'll have my phone on me though.

Okay. Okay.

Be safe, okay? [This directed to Chris; Dillon doesn't need Cassel's well-wishes.]

[He gathers up the stained towel and anything else bloody that needs cleaning, because Chris shouldn't have to deal with that. For a guy with a literally world-shaking presence, it's weird how innocuous he can be when he wants to. It's like he's not even here.]

Yeah.

Yeah, you too, man.

Thanks. Dillon, thank you.

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Issue #76 [Text]

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