Post by Orfeo on Dec 8, 2019 1:04:58 GMT -5
(Ventia )
Reaver hadn't seen his grandfather in... well, he didn't even know how long it hand been since the last time the two talked with one another. He was surprised to hear from him again, even if it was for a simple job. What he hadn't expected was the distaste that the experience would leave in his mouth. Not necessarily for the people he had been interacting with, although a few of them stood out above others, but more because of his grandfather's behaviour.
He'd never felt so alienated from his own family, than in those couple of days that he had spent with Orfeo. The indifference, the coldness, and the lack of shared words. It all added to up an incredibly frustrating experience that left Reaver wanting more than what he got.
It probably went both ways. At least Reaver wasn't blind to that. Reflecting back on those couple of days? Reaver noticed the venom in his words and the mirrored indifference he showed his grandfather. Sitting here now, in his own small apartment, he started to regret some of his actions. Maybe he should have done more - reached out to Orfeo and try to make more of a connection with the man.
But then again, his grandfather should've tried to do the same too. Why was he the one that had to do all the heavy lifting? To hell with that!
"Fuck."
Reaver sighed, already feeling frustrated even days after parting ways with his grandfather. He didn't even know where the man went - it was all a mystery with him and Reaver had too many things on his plate to be worried about an estranged family member. Well... not exactly that many things on his plate, but it made it a whole lot more easier to pretend like he was being particularly busy tonight.
Reaver sighed, already feeling frustrated even days after parting ways with his grandfather. He didn't even know where the man went - it was all a mystery with him and Reaver had too many things on his plate to be worried about an estranged family member. Well... not exactly that many things on his plate, but it made it a whole lot more easier to pretend like he was being particularly busy tonight.
He had no plans on doing anything. He hadn't worked properly in about a month, nearly two months, and was just starting to cut into his savings, but he needed the break too. There was the factor of exhaustion he couldn't get rid of. Chasing that killer had drained him of energy worse than anything else he'd tackled before. She was elusive, two steps ahead of him and then some. But she was still in the back of his mind.
Not like she was the only girl that plagued his thoughts.
Both their files were resting on the table, separate from one another. He no longer had that picture of Katie in his wallet, the from when they were kids, which for now was the only thing he had to go by. it was rather relegated to the very front of her file by attaching it with a paperclip. He'd tried to make some more sense of either one of these two people, but in his frustration all he managed to do was grab a pen and draw out two big question marks, one for each of the folders.
He'd stepped on a lot of shoes to get what little information he had. He didn't figure he had made any enemies, but some people out there were really not happy with him. Another reason to lay low.
Regardless, tonight would not be a night for work. He'd arrived at his apartment with a box of pepperoni pizza and a bottle of white rum in hand from a local spot just down the road. Dressed in his recent getup of bum-looking clothing, Reaver only spared one quick and lazy glance back out into the parking lot before closing the door behind himself. He sat down on the floor in front of the television, turned on the Xbox, and quickly grabbed a slice of pizza. It was oily, but god damn did it taste good. The run burned hard, the first swill nearly making him gag from how unexpectedly strong the taste was. He powered through it and went for a second, a third, and a fourth all consecutively.
He flipped through a couple of movies he'd already previously downloaded, and eventually settled on horror. The Thing - he vaguely remembered forcing Katie to watch this one with him as punishment for... well, something. It was so long ago now that he didn't remember a thing about the movie. Reaver just remembered laughing a lot. He sighed, took a second slice, downed more of the drink, and finally clicked play.
Not ten minutes after the movie had started, Reaver was knocked dead on the floor. He was never good at holding down his alcohol, try sense might. Half-eaten slice in one hand, television remote in the other, lying in complete darkness in nothing but a pair of pink underwear he'd bought thinking they were blue, save for the flashing lights of the 80s horror flick. A little something of a pathetic sight, but he was asleep, and there was nobody else there to judge.
Just another Thursday night.
Reaver shot up with a start, grumbling and groggy, hissing as he was suddenly blinded by the light of the television. It was a little past one in the morning. Somehow he'd accidentally managed to pause the movie during his sleep. He didn't feel well rested at all - matter of fact, he was even more tired now than he'd been before sitting down.
He picked up the box of pizza, mostly full save for the two slices that he'd eaten by now, and brought it up to the table. With a yawn, he took a third cold slice and started to chew on it slowly as he leaned up against one of the chairs, staring at nothing in particular and trying not to think of anyone or anything except the bed that was waiting for him. He normally wasn't one to sleep early - if midnight could even be considered early at this point - but he had no intention of going out anywhere to do anything.
Besides, if he'd didn't know any better, he would have guessed that the rum was hitting him just a little bit harder than what he had intended. He felt off-balance standing straight.
Besides, if he'd didn't know any better, he would have guessed that the rum was hitting him just a little bit harder than what he had intended. He felt off-balance standing straight.
"Huh?"
It was strange. He swore he'd closed the door before settling down. He could just make out a ray of light coming in from the crack created from the open door. Had he really not closed it? Reaver sighed - one of these days he was going to be robbed - and made a move to the door, taking only two steps before suddenly freezing.
The hair on his neck stood on end. Every sense in his body, vampiric, lyncanthropic, and otherwise, told him to get the hell out of his apartment. Reaver realized too late, then, that he wasn't alone in his apartment.
It was instinct rather than training, really, to go for the first and closest thing he figured would hurt someone. A ceramic vase that sat in the middle of the table. In one sudden and sweeping motion, Rever scooped the vase up and clumsily threw it out to the other side of his apartment. The vase shattered in a resonating explosion, sharp shards of ceramic raining down all over his bed and the surrounding floor.
Reaver's heart beat like he'd come out of a race. He looked back and forth across the apartment, trying to make out anything through the darkness, though his eyes were constantly drawn toward the light of the television. "Who!" He called out sloppily. "Who is in here?!" he called out again, instinctively reaching out behind himself for something else to use as a weapon. "Hey - Fuck!"
He turned quickly, almost falling over, as a strong hand grabbed him by the wrist and pinned his arm down to the table. Reaver struggled through the pain of having his arm twisted like that, feeling the pressure closer to his shoulder and elbow yet still somehow managing to ignore it long enough to feel the approach of two more people coming in from the shadows. "N-No!" Reaver hissed again and flayed his free hand across at anything that got close to him.
One one holding his arm down against the table mumbled something he didn't understand. Reaver didn't care. The other grabbed him hard by the neck and started pushing him down against the table. "No!" Reaver kicked at him, almost aimlessly, as he clawed at the third person who'd come up to get his other arm.
One swipe. Two. Three. The man couldn't get a grip, and he couldn't connect. It wasn't until the fourth that Reaver found his mark. His nails embedded themselves deeply into his assailant's neck, and with a scream he tore downwards until he felt blood. The assailant's yelling came after, but Reaver matched his octave and then gave it a little more as the one holding down his arm twisted, then twisted some more.
It was enough to get Reaver to stop, enough of a distraction that the one holding him by the neck finally managed to get the leverage he needed to fully pin Reaver down to the table. The one he'd injured came in with a vengeance, twisting up Reaver's arm behind his back so hard he swore he heard bones crack as he screamed a bloody "Motherfucker!"
"The needle. Needle!" Reader struggled still, th e word needle only driving him into a further fitbit alcohol fueled madness as Henry's everything, anything, to get away from them.
More cursing, yelling, screaming, kicking. Like fishermen trying to take their prized catch for a picture.
"Fuckin needle, mate!"
"Here! Right here!"
"Stick it in 'im already!"
"Fucking trying! Quiet your fucking moving around!"
"Fuuuuuck you!" Groveled Reaver through gritted teeth.
It's the last thing Reaver heard for the remainder of that encounter. All he felt was a sharp prick on his neck, followed by an overwhelming feeling of dizziness, vertigo, drowsiness, and nausea.
More cursing, yelling, screaming, kicking. Like fishermen trying to take their prized catch for a picture.
"Fuckin needle, mate!"
"Here! Right here!"
"Stick it in 'im already!"
"Fucking trying! Quiet your fucking moving around!"
"Fuuuuuck you!" Groveled Reaver through gritted teeth.
It's the last thing Reaver heard for the remainder of that encounter. All he felt was a sharp prick on his neck, followed by an overwhelming feeling of dizziness, vertigo, drowsiness, and nausea.
Having almost knocked over everything in his apartment in, the three assailants threw a bag over his head, brought him outside, and tossed him into the back of a truck. It drove out fast, East, to an abandoned warehouse in the outskirts of town.
The first thing Reaver sensed was the overwhelming chill that covered his whole body. No shirt and no pants, just that stupid pink underwear. He was freezing. Teeth chattering, shaking to the core. He looked up and around. Strapped to a chair in the middle of... a very large empty and dusty room. He struggled against his restraint but found it futile. Not that he had the energy to even struggle, either.
His whole body just ached, head to toe. "H-Hey!" Called out Reaver with a mellow sigh. "Fucking... hey! Answer me!"
"Oi! Shut up, would you?!" Called a voice out from the darkness. He focused his attention there and stared long until he made out a figure through the shadows. Three figures.
Reader groaned loudly, the situation dawning on him rather quickly. "For the love of... - What do you want!?" He struggled again, slightly out of desperation now, cycling in his mind through the hundreds of people he had ever met just to see if any one of them were here right now.
"Simple ransom, mate!"
"I don't have money!"
"Not money!" They paused, as if thinking. Another one talked now. "Buddy of ours that got arrested thanks to you! We want 'im."
"Oi! Shut up, would you?!" Called a voice out from the darkness. He focused his attention there and stared long until he made out a figure through the shadows. Three figures.
Reader groaned loudly, the situation dawning on him rather quickly. "For the love of... - What do you want!?" He struggled again, slightly out of desperation now, cycling in his mind through the hundreds of people he had ever met just to see if any one of them were here right now.
"Simple ransom, mate!"
"I don't have money!"
"Not money!" They paused, as if thinking. Another one talked now. "Buddy of ours that got arrested thanks to you! We want 'im."