THE SAINTS OF OUR CITY [P]

[Lyric Shikov]

Lyric swore that whenever he sat down, there was another reason to stand up. Someone needed the Delta's opinion. He had to relay a message for Manic or Crash. A hunting party was missing. A patrol had gone terribly wrong. Some whelp needed to be put in their place. The Russian was a little worse for wear, and more than exhausted.

With the burning of the waterfront, he had been busy helping reconstruct it. That being said, he had never anticipated what being Delta might mean. And he had certainly never thought that it would include lugging around heaps of debris to begin rebuilding. There was soot everywhere, and when he'd taken off his tee-shirt there were clear-cut lines... white... sooty black. The fact that they were having difficulties finding clean water meant that he was trying to rub his hands clean with some scrounged-up disinfectant wipes when there was a knock just outside of the open door of his room.

Lyric tensed. He'd been sitting on the edge of his make-shift bed, a single mattress that he had built a crude frame for, to keep him off the disgusting sewer ground. He was shirtless, dirty, and tired. He glanced up. "Whatever it is can wait until morning," the Russian said, without expression.

A scout peeked her head around the corner, eyes wide. "Um... sir. It really can't. He's refusing to get medical treatment until he talks to you."

Lyric gave up on the whole "clean" business and stood, his brows furrowed. A very, very loud voice was saying that he really didn't give a damn; let the injured idiot bleed out. "And why does he need to talk to me? Also, why is he injured?"

"Well... we... well. It's James Colt... He was the Hunter that's been missing for a couple of days, and it turns out he was a prisoner in Fallen territory. But this trespasser seems to have helped him escape, but sir, he's a rough looking Fallen. We confiscated all kinds of knives and things--"

"God. Just bring them in. The quicker I finish this, the quicker I can get this damn ash off my skin, and I can go to bed." He sat down again, exasperated, bracing his elbows on his knees. It only took a few seconds for Carla to get the injured Hunter in, and settled on a chair. Next came the prisoner, escorted by another Scout with a spear. "Thank you, Carla." Lyric's tone held barely suppressed displeasure. "You two may leave now."

"But sir--"

"I think I can handle myself again a handcuffed Fallen. Give me his weapons before you leave." He was handed two knives nearly identical to his own, as well as a boot knife and sheath. He arched a brow at the Fallen, who did not change his expression, merely stood there on the balls of his feet. So Lyric had himself a hard-ass on his hands, hm? Carla began to leave. "Find Colt a medic, by the way. Send them to my room immediately."

Honestly, James seemed about ready to lay down and die. Lyric straightened up and rolled his shoulders, longing for two things in that instant: a cigarette, and someone to keep his bed warm. But when he blinked, a lethargic, cat-like gesture... he thought of black wings, and immediately snapped his eyes open. Maybe this was better than sleep.

"I don't suppose you're going to let me either kill this trespasser, or interrogate him, are you?" Lyric noticed, now, that the soot was even under his fingernails. With a furrowed brow, he set to cleaning out the nail of his index finger with the Fallen's knife. This earned a rather offended expression, which was what Lyric had been aiming for. He grinned devilishly. "It's obviously an important matter. This guy seems like he was more than willing to betray Fallen, and that doesn't say much about his character. But you want to say something in his favor, I take it? Not get revenge?"

Lyric raised his eyes to James and stood. It was an unsettling effect, considering his face was smeared with soot, and they were an almost animalistic gold in the lamplight. He strode closer, knife in hand, to examine the Fallen with a more skeptical eye. He had a few inches on Lyric, and definitely outweighed him, but he did not feel much fear. With a cocked head, Lyric tried to form an opinion. The Fallen did not meet his eyes, but stared directly over his head, his expression impassive.

The Russian recognized it as a military gesture, and scoffed. He turned to James again, brow cocked, waiting for answers.

[James Colt]

James winced a little as Carla helped settle him into the chair, fighting the urge to fall asleep where he sat. The journey back to Sewertown had been easier than getting to the Carna border, the scouts had ended up half carrying him, but he was so far beyond exhausted it wasn't funny. He wanted nothing more than to let the medics drag him off, knock him out and patch him back together, but he knew if he did, Grey would probably end up dead before he could do anything about it. Carna justice was swift.

Lyric, the Delta, seemed pretty exhausted himself. He was covered in soot, probably from working in the torched waterfront. James fought the urge to growl a little, remembering the Fallen that had come into their territory and burned their homes. If the circumstances had been any different, he'd be all for executing a Fallen trespasser where they stood, if only for some sense of petty vengeance.

"I don't suppose you're going to let me either kill this trespasser, or interrogate him, are you?" Lyric asked, and James shook his head with a tired smirk.

Lyric certainly didn't seem too thrilled about being disturbed, and James could sympathize, but he wasn't about to let Grey be killed just because they were both tired. He didn't know when he'd started to think of Grey as an almost-friend instead of a not-quite-enemy, but he sure as hell wasn't going to let him die.

"Nah, that'd be a waste of all the time I spent arguing with the scouts not to kill 'im on the spot."

[/color] he said lightly.

"It's obviously an important matter. This guy seems like he was more than willing to betray Fallen, and that doesn't say much about his character. But you want to say something in his favor, I take it? Not get revenge?" James stirred, feeling just a little defensive as Lyric questioned Grey's character. He didn't think less of Grey for walking away from the Fallen, but he supposed some people might.

Lyric stood, and James had to admit he looked a little imposing at the moment, all shirtless and covered with soot, knife in hand and eyes glittering. James just grinned back at him, an almost challenging light in his eyes. Lyric walked over, inspecting Grey. Grey, throughout this, had stayed pretty impassive, his face betraying nothing. James had to give him credit for that, if he'd been in that situation he would have been snarling and biting like a wildcat while swearing like a sailor.

"I wouldn't call it betraying the Fallen..."[/color] he started, keeping his tone light despite the fact that a man's life was on the table here, "More realizing that he no longer had a place among them. Frankly, I don't think Grey's much of a Fallen, he's got too much of a spine to be one of them. Apparently they thought the same thing, way he says it he was a few weeks off getting his ass kicked out regardless."[/color]

If he wanted to convince Lyric not to kill Grey though he'd have to say something about what went down. He shrugged his good shoulder and went for it.

"Anyways, I was an idiot and got myself caught in Fallen territory by this guy here. We beat each other up pretty good and I got myself dragged into that muddy hole the Fallen call a prison. Turns out the Fallen aren't to happy with the Carna at the moment, some of them argued pretty hard for killing me on the spot. Grey here was nice enough to stop them, even talked them into healing me enough so I didn't bleed to death overnight"[/color] he turned to Grey, an almost curious look in his eyes, "I don't think I got around to thanking him for that."[/color]

James shrugged again, eyes flicking back to Lyric. "So I lazed about in the hole for a few days, I wouldn't recommend getting tossed in there, by the way; S'not as bad as some places I've been holed up in, but it gets damn hot. After a few days some Fallen decided they didn't like the way my face was arranged, so they gave me a makeover."[/color] he gestured loosely at his face, in all it's bruised and bloody glory.

"They also thought I'd look better if I was missing some appendages, you know, fingers, toes, eyeballs. Grey interrupted them before they could get to the slicing part, thankfully, I like my body parts where they are. He convinced them to go ask the Alpha before they 'questioned' me, you know, keep things official. They wandered off and left him in charge."[/color]

"Instead of tossing me back in the pit and patting himself on the back for a job well done though, he decides to help me escape. As you can probably tell I wasn't in much of a state to go running across the desert on my lonesome, no way I was escaping on my own without shifting. Much as I wanted to escape, I wasn't quite ready to risk shifting with broken ribs. 'Bout halfway to the border I face planted the ground, Grey had to half carry me to the fence line. I might have tried blundering through the fence, but Grey plopped me behind a bush and hopped over to find a patrol for help."[/color]

"He only went over the border to help me. The way I see it, he shouldn't be punished for that."[/color][/blockquote][/blockquote]

ooc: There we go, not so sure what James will be like with Lyric, he surprises me sometimes.

[Lyric Shikov]

The Delta rocked forward on the balls of his feet, knife held loosely in his hand. His gaze was on James for the moment, listening to what the Carna had to say about his little "friend". The Fallen deserter sounded like your average, run-of-the-mill Menagerie hero. Excluding the fact that he had probably done quite his fair share of damage to James himself. "And he did this all out of the goodness of his heart." It was not a question. It was a dry statement. Lyric glanced away from James and returned his attention to the Fallen, who had not moved from the position of parade rest.

"If he should not be punished for that, perhaps he should be punished for capturing you and throwing you in a hole. Or perhaps for the Carna he has killed in the past." Of that Lyric had no doubt. Most people did not go through the Menagerie without their fair share of blood on their hands. He raised the knife and nudged Grey's face to the side with it. For the first time, the deserter's eyes locked on the Delta's, and Lyric held them with a wolfish smile.

"Aside from your outstanding moral character, why shouldn't we kill you?" This was a question given directly to the Fallen.

Lyric's eyes were narrowed, waiting for a reply. The deserter--he gathered that his name was Grey--swallowed and eyed him. "I'm a good worker. I can pull my own weight. I... have experience in fighting and have already had training to be a Hunter. I have some military-like training."

The Delta dropped the knife from Grey's face and turned to glance at James--at that moment, however, a Medic knocked on the wall outside, and Lyric called her inside. "Fix him." He nodded the medic towards James, then, and the young girl knelt beside him gingerly. "I'm going to have to take your shirt off to tend to the injuries under it," she said, meekly, and without waiting for a reply she pulled out a knife and cut. Lyric wondered exactly what kind of injuries James had, but as soon as the shirt was removed Lyric saw a plethora of bruises, cuts, and swelling. "Remind me to stop telling Tenderfoots that Fallen is harmless," Lyric said, dryly, as he paced a few steps away from the deserter, the medic, and James.

Oh, that bed was looking really nice. He rolled his shoulders again, cracked his knuckles, and turned around to face the little gathering again. "Hypothetically, if we do allow you to join, you would be under scrutiny for a while. No one in the Menagerie likes a deserter." Lyric's smile showed too many teeth to be friendly. He was thinking of how in all actuality, this could be a spy plan. A deserter Fallen, escorting and assisting an injured Carna to gain good grace. He would not put it past the new Fallen alpha, nor this military man in front of him.

"I understand that," Grey replied, his voice quiet. "I would expect nothing less."

Perhaps to hurry the entire thing along, Lyric felt his resolve breaking bit by bit. "Since you dragged James in, he can make sure you don't screw anything up from now on. I guess you'll be his tenderfoot. Expect half the rations for the first week--and that's an order." Lyric walked steadily closer, then, the knife still in hand. "And if you do anything to screw Carna over, it's going to be on my head for letting you in to the Ring. Which is something that would not make me very happy at all."

[James Colt]

James refused to back down when Lyric questioned Grey's motives, knowing that he had to try and appear at least somewhat strong if he was going to argue. Admittedly it was hard to look confident when you couldn't even stand properly. Lyric had a point, he didn't doubt Grey had killed in the past, most of the decent fighters had. He himself had killed a few times, much as he tried to avoid it. It was life.

He spared a glance for the healer who came in, before focusing back on Lyric and Grey, at least, focusing until she started cutting his shirt off. "Hey! I liked that shirt,"

[/color] he grumbled, hissing a little as she started prodding at his injured ribs, "It was comfy, and it didn't show up blood stains."[/color]

He smirked at her a little, raising his eyebrow and wondering if he should try his luck flirting while he looked like he'd been hit by a train. He decided against it though, paying attention to Lyric again as she wiped the sand and dirt out of the larger wounds on his right arm. Lyric seemed to be wearing down a little, and James hoped he'd decide in their favor. Lyric was right though, none of the Carna would react well to a Fallen deserter in their midst. Grey would have to watch himself with some of them.

Grey seemed to accept the fact that he'd be being watched for a while though, although James supposed he'd been being watched by the Fallen anyway. It seemed Lyric was making Grey James' tenderfoot, which suited James just fine. He could keep an eye on Grey to make sure he wasn't having too much trouble with the other Carna, and he'd have someone to hunt with who actually knew which end of the knife you were meant to put in the animal.

He smiled a little in relief, glad he'd been able to keep Grey from getting killed by his ring. If he hadn't been able to convince Lyric, he would have had to figure something else out, probably something incredibly stupid. He grimaced though when Lyric mentioned the possibility of Grey betraying them.

"He screws us over, it's on my head,"[/color] James said, his voice flat and his eyes serious, "I'll accept full responsibility for him."[/color]

James didn't think Grey was a Fallen plant, but he supposed anything was possible in here. If he was wrong, if the Carna were betrayed because he brought a traitor into their midst, then the least he could do was take the blame. Lyric was sticking his neck out doing this, they all were.

He glanced back at the healer who'd been tying a bandage around his right forearm, "I'm sure the healer can continue patching me back together somewhere else, no offense but you look beat. I think it'd be a tough call in a beauty contest, I mean, I get some extra points because of my natural beauty, but I 'spose they'd take off some for all the blood.."[/color] he smirked at the Delta, hauling himself off the chair with a groan.[/blockquote][/blockquote]

[Lyric Shikov]

If he was being frank? A Fallen spy in the midst of Carna would be a bad idea. The idiot would be caught eventually, perhaps by some Telepathic, and then they would be treated as spies always were. There was really nothing to lose by accepting the alleged deserter, so long as he was kept under scrutiny.

Overlooking James as the Medic attended him, Lyric wasn't entirely sure how much "scrutiny" he was capable of. He screws us over, it's on my head. An arched brow was Lyric's only response to the statement. He licked his dry lips and continued to think it over quietly. The decision had been made, but Ly wasn't certain it had been a good one, regardless. There was something sly in the Fallen's eyes that he did not like or trust, but then, everyone had a look in their eyes that Lyric wasn't too fond of.

"Responsibility." Lyric repeated this without emotion, strangely intense. "The word has a meaning all it's own in the Carna, James. Of which you are well aware."

He snorted in reply to the Hunter's wisecracks, but did not humor him further. He had interrupted Lyric's downtime with something that the Delta knew he would continue to think over. He offered a sharp smile. "Beauty contests are for stuck-up little girls." He nodded at the pair of rough looking men, as well as the medic. "But you all are dismissed. Keep this Fallen under control, James."

When they had finally left, Lyric's demeanor changed dramatically. Once alone, the sharpness went from his expression. He was no longer commanding, he was no longer strong. He was just tired and lonely, and his bed had gotten cold. He could not stop thinking of the Fallen's strange, lightly colored eyes. The way they had looked at him the way an animal would have.

ooc: sorry for the wait! i'll start our next thread though <3