ain't no sunshine [P]

[Cezar Stark]

The feel of blood smooth on his tongue and slick between his teeth as it slid down the back of his throat was familiar. The pain, quick and sharp with each breath was too. He had known blood and pain and fear. He had known it always, since childhood. He was used to it, either giving or receiving. But Costin had always been there to show him the way, to show him that it was just blood, it was just pain, but there was no fear when you were the strongest one. He drew in a shallow, uneven breath, a low whisper of a whine slipping from his throat as he clutched as his ribs, likely broken. It’s only blood, only pain. No fear, no fear … No Costin. He was curled on the grimy floor, arms wrapped around his torso to keep his warmth from seeping into the cold stone beneath him. He tried to shift to keep warm, but he couldn’t muster the strength to stay in his wolf form longer than a few minutes. He also couldn’t move his arm very well and it hurt like hell each time he’d tried to shift. So he’d just given up and left himself to shiver, just like he always did. Costin would’ve been strong enough. He thought. I am too weak. It’s a wonder he didn’t leave sooner. He felt a sob coming and tried to choke it back, knowing it would be too painful. He clenched his teeth, blood seeping from his lips as the gash on his tongue opened wider. “It’s just blood,” he sputtered through bloodsoaked teeth. “It’s just pain. N-no ... No f ... ear.” He could get through this. He would. And then he would find Costin. But he wasn’t even sure where he himself was, somewhere where the orășeni lived. He and Costin called them that, the cityfolk, because they could never remember what the Carna called them. He was somewhere in their territory, locked behind bars. They’d cornered him on a farm (in the city!) when he’d tried to eat a couple of the chickens. He was only looking for Costin, and had gotten hungry. He hadn’t wanted any trouble. But they attacked him because he smelled like the Carna. So he did what Costin had taught him, used his teeth and claws. And he’d ended up here in their prison, half dead and freezing. The wolf wasn’t sure how long he’d been here, probably more than a few hours. He’d been unconscious for most of it, but he was still bleeding when he’d woken. He’d heard voices and footsteps down the corridor, but his back was to the cell door and he was starting at the wall. He didn’t want to see who was coming. “Don’t move, Carna.” A woman spoke, and he could hear the strength in her words. He remained motionless save for the rapid rise and fall of his chest. He heard the jangle of metal, the groaning of the old door as it swung open. He could feel the weight of her in her footsteps as she approached him, nearly screamed as she pressed a boot into his broken ribs. He managed to choke it back to just a strangled gasp as she flipped him onto his stomach. “Hands,” She barked. He could only move one arm, the other only jerked shakily as he tried to move them to the center of his back. She yanked the other one into place to bind his hands, and this time he did scream. Blood oozed from his mouth as he cried out, nearly losing consciousness from the flash of pain. “Shit,” she said with a sigh, and it almost sounded apologetic. She let his broken arm be and simply tied his good arm to a couple of the bars with rope and bound his feet together at the ankles. She helped him sit up against the bars. He was too weak to hold his head up, so it lolled to the side and rested on his shoulder. His hair was matted with sweat and blood and had fallen into his eyes. “Medic’s comin’ to see you, Carna. If you keep in line, you’ll get some water.” He peered up at her, vision blurred from the tears in his eyes. The woman just shook her head and left him for the medic. notes | Evkav

[Ace]

Sleep was a rare thing for the young medic in recent times. For once though he had managed to get a proper night’s sleep. He was woken up by a soft tongue against his cheek. Eyes still closed, he pushed the puppy away and rolled over. The bed was worn out but it provided enough comfort for him on the occasional nights he managed to sleep in it rather than on the old sofa in the medical bay. He was luckier than many other Fulsi who were forced to sleep on whatever they could. Perhaps his position within the Ring made him valuable enough to give him some small comfort. Sitting up, Ace rubbed his eyes, opening them to the glare of the late morning sun that peeped in through the window. Lucy jumped up too, grabbing at his blanket to force him up further. He rose lazily, grabbing his shirt from the floor beside him as he did, and slipped it over his head. He’d managed to wash it the day before which meant most of the blood and dirt was gone, leaving it a dull shade of white. Just as he was pulling his shoes on Lucy barked at something behind him and Ace let out a grunt. “You’re needed over at the cells.” Ace recognised the voice as one of the younger medics, Charlie. He nodded, still not turning around, and resumed doing up his shoelaces. Lucy was still facing towards the door so Ace assumed the medic had not moved. “Did they tell you why?” He asked, grabbing his coat as he turned and walked to the door. Charlie shook his head, holding out Ace’s shoulder bag which he must’ve grabbed from the bay on his way over. Evidently it was an urgent matter. Charlie left him just outside the House of Incarceration, going back to the medical bay to deal with the other patients. A hunter, one whose name he didn’t know, came out and beckoned towards him. She was quite burly and looked like she could snap him in half with little effort. Swallowing, he clutched the strap of his shoulder bag tightly, trying to look as confident as he could. “The prisoner is a Carna. Doesn’t seem to be a threat but he might have information. He’s broken some things so we need you to fix him up before we can question him. Leave your weapons outside, we don’t wanna risk anything.” Ace nodded, barely taking anything in. All he hoped was that the Carna wouldn’t be in shape to fight, and even after healed wouldn’t have the capacity or training to do so. The medic had had a short stint as a scout but even that was only minor hand-to-hand combat training and that knowledge had mostly been abandoned in his recent year. Walking in through the front door, he was met by a guard who merely grumbled something incoherent at him. Ace frowned and assumed he was to place his weapons on the table, which he did. The guard then stepped aside and Ace walked through the hallway. A second guard half-smiled at him and nodded towards the cell he was standing in front of before walking off, probably on patrol. Taking another deep breath, Ace peered into the dark cell. Against the bars leaned a young man, probably only a few years older than himself. He was covered in dirt and blood and his head lolled to the side in a most unnerving manner. Ace walked in and stood just in front of the man. He kicked his leg softly, trying to see if he was even alive. There was a small movement and Ace frowned. It would’ve been easier if this guy had just died. Not sure what to do next, he dropped into a crouch beside the man. “Ummm I’m a medic here and apparently my superiors want you fixed up,” he tried not to let his voice shake but the hint of fear within him was probably evident. “If you make this easy for me I promise I won’t heal that arm of yours at a terribly inconvenient angle.” Ace’s voice was almost snake-like as he issued the warning, his eyes narrowing. Regardless of the shakiness in his hands, he had the upper hand in this situation and the Carna wouldn’t be getting away with anything nasty. He might have to heal this man but he was still the enemy and there was no changing that. Moving forwards, he placed his bag beside the patient. “I just need to check how bad everything is,” he said softly, trying to treat the Carna as he would any other patient. Sure, he may be a little rougher on this man, but if Charm wanted him alive and healed, she’d get him alive and healed. Loyalty before revenge. He pressed against the man’s free arm, watching his face to gauge the pain level as he did so. His sight narrowed in on the arm, trying to see where the bones bent out of place underneath the skin. “I’m gonna need you to tell me exactly where you feel pain.” Ace could already tell by the shallow breathing that there was a broken rib or two, possibly poking into his lungs, and some internal bleeding was likely. Regardless, procedure dictated he ask the patient where he feels the pain and then go from there. If his initial prognosis was correct though, it was going to be a long and tiring day for the both of them. ooc | mo money I have 4 assessments due in a week and yet I decide do this instead...

[Cezar Stark]

Blue eyes snapped open when something kicked at his leg, his body jerking away from whatever it was -- every hair on his body stood on end, eyes darting to meet the threat head-on. He was staring into a man’s eyes, so dark they seemed black. Cezar took in his features as quick as he could, managing to hold his gaze for a brief moment before he dropped his eyes to the ground by the man's feet, fearing that the oraseni would be able to see how weak he was. He had to try to be strong, even though he could smell his own fear rolling off him in waves. He stank of blood and sweat and that slightly heady (when a wolf), heavy sourness that was unmistakably fear;, and he knew if the medic was trained, he would be able to smell how scared Cezar was. But he couldn't think of htat. He had to be the strongest, he had to be tough. He had to get out of here and find Costin. Then everything would be okay. The man crouched next to him, his movements quick and assured. But his voice wavered in the slightest but Cezar caught it, and for a moment he felt as if he could be the strongest one. His breath came in sharp, heavy pants, trying to ignore the lancing pains, but he couldn’t seem get his breath under control as the man kept getting closer to him, speaking in a confusing rush of English. Cezar could barely understand what the man was saying, struggling to translate amidst the cloying fog of pain and adrenaline. “No,” he said, his voice low and guttural, akin to a growl, as he tried to make himself look menacing. His lips hung open and blood dribbled out from where he’d bitten his lip during the fight, his teeth stained red as he flashed them in a wolfish snarl. "No oraseni. " He glared up at the Fulsi from beneath his grimy brow, challenging him with a cold blue stare. "No Fulsi," Only blood. Only pain. No fear, He thought, repeating it to make it true. He strained at his bindings, arm twisting behind him as he lunged forward with a hoarse roar, his broken arm snaking out and reaching for the medic’s arm, forgetting the pain existed. He grinned as he felt his fingers skim the man’s forearm, cinching them around his wrist, nails scraping against his skin. He tried to drag the man’s arm closer, to pull him in so he could sink his bared teeth into him as he would if he were a wolf -- but it was only mere seconds before the pain caught up to him, barely strangling down a scream; it came out a hoarse cry, groaning with rage and agony, and his hand went limp and slide from the Fulsi’s arm. Cezar slumped forward, chest heaving as he choked down air and blood, eyes darting to avoid staring.the Fulsi in the eyes. He knew what they would see. He stayed hunched over, cradling his broken limb against him. After a few hitching, shuddering breaths, Cezar finally met the man's gaze, blue eyes seeming hollow and dark, yet vivid with the feral desperation of a caged animal. His whole body trembled with violence, his strength failing him. He had failed, again. He was too weak. He needed his brother. He needed Costin. He couldn’t survive this on his own. “Costin,” he choked out at last, cheeks stained with tears and sweat comingled. “Where … is … Costin?” notes | Evkav dumb wooflet ;3;

[Ace]

The figure was evidently in bad shape but his eyes were wild and furious but scared too. Ace’s enhanced vision could pick up the wavering in the man’s expression as he tried to give off an air of strength. He seemed confused, perhaps not understanding what Ace was saying. Ace’s expression remained cold and hard, not wanting this enemy to get into his head or see weakness where there was none. He simply wanted to heal the guy up and get the hell out of there and never see the pathetic Carna again. If it were up to him the man would rot in the cell and succumb to his blood loss and broken limbs. The punctured lung – if it was indeed punctured – would probably do it in the end. Depending on how bad it was he’d probably start suffocating soon. If Charm wanted this guy alive it was best that the medic fixed up that internal issue first. That would probably use up a lot of his energy too. A shame but necessary. His quick overview of the patient was interrupted when he cried out, growling almost at the medic. Ace frowned, his eyes locking on the Carna’s and twisting his lips into a sort of challenging scowl. The blood had no effect on him. Ace had seen enough blood that to him it was just the same as water. Oraseni? What the hell is that? Ace frowned as he realised that perhaps the man really didn’t know much English. That was certainly going to make things difficult. The words were a threat though, he could tell that much. The way his Ring’s name rolled of the enemy’s tongue was acidic and stung Ace almost to his core. It was as though it had suddenly become personal. Loyalty kicked in and Ace felt his anger well up. The patient would do well not to anger him more, but perhaps anger was what he needed to survive the situation. It spurred him on more than any other emotion ever could. The arm came unexpectedly since Ace thought the pain would be too much to even try to move a finger. But it snapped out and just managed to grab Ace’s wrist as he tried to jump backwards, falling onto his arse instead. Skin was scraped off but Ace’s face remained hard, knowing the scratch was nothing. He could feel the Carna try to pull him forward but Ace’s arm wasn’t broken. He easily pulled away and the enemy gave up, crying out in pain and slumping back over. Ace simply sat back, letting out a small laugh at what a pathetic attempt it had been. Mere seconds after the assault and there was no hint of a wound on Ace’s wrist. He waved his wrist around to check but more for emphasis – to show the Carna that he was the one with the power. The Carna spoke again, asking for some Costin. Ace assumed this was a person, maybe someone close. “Costin isn’t here,” he hissed in response. “He’s probably dead along with all your other pathetic Carna buddies.” Sitting forward again, Ace kicked at the man’s legs to try and force him to look up. Ace wanted him to understand that the medic was not weak or afraid nor was he alone. A few moments passed and Ace stood up and lowered himself into a crouch straddling over the Carna’s legs. He crept in close, his eyes examining every movement of muscle in case the man tried anything stupid again. Ace wanted to be doubly sure though. Placing a hand over the man’s chest, Ace leaned in so that their faces were inches apart. “If you try that again here’s what’ll happen,” he whispered as his fingertips sent electricity into the man’s chest. It was only a small voltage but it was enough to get the message across. “You must speak some English,” Ace murmured, leaning back again and resting more of his weight on the man’s legs, not particularly caring if it hurt or not. “Do you understand the concept that your lungs are f***ed?” All sort of empathy or sympathy that Ace had for each of his patients seemed to have been lost with this one. Despite that, he knew what Charm wanted and that was a live Carna. The lungs needed to be fixed. That, however, was a little difficult in the given circumstances, personal boundaries being what they were and all. Skin-to-skin contact was best for healing internal wounds. Whilst he had no problem getting up close and personal with another man’s chest, he had a feeling the Carna didn’t want a Fulsi getting all hands-y. Taking a deep breath, Ace moved his hands forwards and started to lift the Carna’s shirt very slowly. “I need to be able to touch your chest to heal the lungs,” he said, a little more warmth coming into his voice, more out of fear for his own safety than concern for the other man. “I’m just going to lift your shirt.” Ace continued to slowly move it upwards, his hands trying not to graze the skin until absolutely necessary. His eyes remained glued on the important muscles just in case too many boundaries were crossed. His heart was pounding, hoping that the Carna would just let him do his job. ooc | mo money idk but somehow there's already some shirtlessness going on here pls save me from my insanity

[Cezar Stark]

Watery blue eyes locked onto the small scrapes his nails had made in the oraseni's wrist, his lip lifting up in the smallest of grins. Maybe he could do this. Maybe he could fight. He drew on that fragment of hope, using it like a beacon to see through the thickening fog of pain in his mind. He could fight his way out of here, get free, find Costin -- be safe. Everything would be okay. But then the oraseni waved his hand, and the scratches had disappeared completely. Not possible. Cezar's eyes widened and he attempted to press his body further against the metal bars at his back, trying to get away from this dark creature. He had heard of some people being able to do this, he had seen the bat's wolf friend do it. He had seen their strength, their power; this man had the same. And then the oraseni was speaking again, but he was saying terrible, horrible things. Costin couldn't be .... gone. He was just hiding, just hiding and getting better after his leg had to come off. Cezar's face flushed with heat, hot tears spilling down his cheeks. Costin wasn't gone. The oraseni was playing tricks, trying to make him give up, trying to break him down and keep him here. Maybe they were hiding Costin somewhere, somewhere near. But he wasn't gone. He couldn't be. Chest heaving in sharp, haggard gasps, Cezar glared up at the Fulsi, struggling to see through the tears. "Liar." He spat, though it came out more of a half-hearted sob. "Costin!" He screamed, pulling against his restraints. His voice shook with raw desperation as it echoed through the halls. "Costi! Costi! Costin, te rog!" His screams slowly died away as the pain in his chest became too much to bear and he fell forwards again, struggling to breathe through shuddering sobs. The oraseni just looked at him, kicked his leg. Then he was close, too close, his warm hand on his chest. But Cezar couldn't move, couldn't shake him loose. And then there was more pain, more heat seeming to shoot from the oraseni's hand. It felt like the lab doctor's prods, sharp and fast and left him seeing stars. A shuddering gasp was the only sound to escape him as he looked into the Oraseni's eyes, understanding his threat. If it were possible his body went even more limp than before and he fell back against the bars, head lolling to the side again. His eyes were focused behind the strange, powerful man, only trailing to watch his hand when the man slowly lifted his shirt. He gave a slight incline of his chin to acknowledge that he understood the Fulsi's words. He wouldn't fight him, couldn't. His heart hammered and his skin crawled but he didn't move, couldn't move -- too scared and too tired. Only a wince, a subtle flinch in his face showed the fear. The man's palm was warm against his chest as he pressed his hand close. The feeling of another's skin against his own was alien, foreign, unsettling. It had been years since he had felt the touch of another person, excepting in battle when it was tooth and nail rending flesh from bone. He thought of Margo, briefly, but she was a fleeting memory and he couldn't hold on to her as the pain in his chest grew worse. It was getting harder and harder to breathe and his breaths where coming out in short, desperate wheezes. His free arm hung limp at his side and he could barely move his head. His vision was hazy and he kept blinking to try and clear it, but it only made him dizzy. "Will I ... go?" He asked, index finger weakly pointing to the sky, heaven, his eyes flicking up to follow. In his haze of pain and panic, he couldn't find the right words in English to ask if he was going to die. "I do not want to go." Not without Costin. ooc; Evkav ugh I'm sorry this took forever! ;0; poor cece tho alsoo te rog = please in Romanian

[Ace]

The Carna was in bad shape, anyone could tell that much. As Ace’s fingers lightly trailed his chest, every part of him wished to just get up and walk away – leave the Carna to rot in a cell and die as his lungs slowly filled with blood. His loyalty to his Ringleader prevented him from doing so. Instead, he had to swallow his pride and his loathing for the enemy and do what was required of him, even if it meant saving someone that could end up murdering those he loved. He pressed his palm into the man’s chest softly, feeling for the inflation and deflation of the lungs. It was jagged and uncomfortable and not at all resembled the movement of healthy lungs. At least the Carna wasn’t fighting back anymore. He seemed to have totally given up, his head rolling to the side at a weird angle, chest heaving and eyes dull to the world. He didn’t have much fight left in him it appeared. How easy it would be to let him die. Ace forced the thoughts away and instead locked his eyes on the Carna’s own, trying to search for some kind of humanity. Perhaps if the Carna felt something – regret maybe – then he would be worth saving. But Ace saw nothing. His eyes fell back to the chest, honing in on the slightest rise and fall. Slowly he pulsed his power outwards, willing the lungs to stitch themselves back up again, to cast the blood back out and into the veins where they belonged. He forced the lungs to filter the oxygen and expel the carbon dioxide, to do what they were meant to do. It was a slow process and his concentration was broken slightly by the quietest of questions. He paused his healing and frowned, perplexed by the words, in disbelief that a Carna even believed in such a concept. He was unsure how to answer. The temptation to tell the Carna he was going to hell was strong but something stopped him, something prevented him from such a cruel act. “No,” he whispered, shaking his head a little. “You’re not going to die. I won’t let you.” The words were as kind as he could make them, though they remained tinged with a slight hiss of disdain. Perhaps he was getting soft on this poor creature. Blinking himself out of his idiocy he focused on the healing again. His breathing grew deeper as he felt his energy slowly flow into the other man. Internal injuries were never easy to fix. Still, he pushed deeper, feeling the man’s lungs slowly begin to move at a regular rate. He felt himself grow dizzy, knowing full well he was pushing himself too hard, but if he didn’t fix the lungs now he would die. If he didn’t fix them completely they could rupture again and he’d have to go through all of this once more. He had to do it, totally and completely. Finally, he felt the last cell move into place, the lungs back to a healthier manner, and Ace heaved a sigh, collapsing off the man and rolling onto his back. He wiped sweat from his forehead, still breathing heavily, closing his eyes and trying to regain his energy. He was aware that he was lying dangerously close to the Carna still, their bodies almost touching, and Ace in a compromising position. He hoped, however, that the man would be kind enough to not try anything against the person who had just saved his life. Then again, Carna’s were incapable of such passion. Sitting up again, he leaned against the bars and turned his head to face the Carna. “Your lungs,” he nodded towards the man’s chest, “they’re fixed now. You can breathe.” He took a deep breath in and out, hoping he’d get the hint to try it himself. It was at that moment that the tap tap of paws could be heard against the hard floor. Ace looked over to see Lucy bounding towards them, slipping in through the slightly open door. She ran straight over to Ace and nudged at his legs, looking curiously up at the Carna, barking inquisitively. Ace too looked over at the Carna again, frowning a little. “I’m going to have to wait before I can heal that arm. You may as well tell me your name.” He paused for a moment, unsure if the Carna actually understood him. Then he motioned at himself. “I’m Ace. And this,” he patted the collie’s head, “is Lucy.” ooc | mo money i did the thing!

[Cezar Stark]

He came to slowly, the world a dark, confusing haze. He saw the blurry shape of the Fulsi man sprawled at his side. He was too weak to question it. He shut his eyes; they were too heavy to keep open. He knew this feeling. The numbing confusion was familiar: he'd passed out. He heard the man speak, and he struggled to open his eyes. It took a moment to focus his blurred vision, and in his pained stupor he struggled to translate. The Oraseni motioned for him to breathe. He thought, No, it hurts too much. He wanted to tell the Oraseni, but he would have no sympathy. Cezar could see it in his face: The man wanted him dead. But he did notice, after a moment, that there wasn’t so much pain. His shallow breaths slowly evened and he mimicked what the Fulsi had done, letting his lungs fill with air. He thought maybe now he would not die. Perhaps he would live, at least long enough to find Costi. I can, he thought. I can be strong until then. He smiled, briefly, earnestly when the puppy came bounding into the cell, her claws not yet long enough to click on the stone floor. He had always loved dogs. He’d found a stray puppy once, back home, but his father had taken it away from him. The man was speaking again. Through his haze of memories, Cezar was able to hear “name.” The man was called Ace. The puppy had a name, too: Lucy. He smiled at the small thing, wanting to reach out a hand and feel her soft fur. But he was shackled, his only free hand was broken and he dared not move it again. He supposed the man wanted to know his name. He froze, unsure. But he thought maybe it would be a good thing if this Oraseni knew his name. At least then, if they buried him, someone would know what name to speak over the dirt. “Cezar,” he rasped, wary eyes trailing back up to meet Ace’s gaze. He held it for a long moment before he spoke again. "Mulţumesc." Thank you.

[Ace]

It was a relief when the Carna finally sucked air into his lungs, Ace smiling a little at his handy-work. At least he was useful in one way. He’d been a pretty terrible scout but medic suited him, even if it meant stitching up the enemy. But of course, he was never one to question Charm. If she wanted something done, he would deliver or he’d die trying. And die he nearly had a number of times. It would be a sweet release, he thought, but the universe obviously wasn’t ready to let him have peace yet. The Carna seemed to like Lucy, which made Ace feel strangely protective of the little puppy. He sat up and leaned against the bars next to Cezar, their shoulders slightly touching. Lucy jumped straight over his legs and went to nudge the other man softly, sniffing him as though to work out if he was friend or foe. Ace absentmindedly ran his hands across her back, scratching her just above the tail where he knew she liked it. Her tail wagged excitedly and, pleased with her evaluation of the stranger, went and sat across Ace’s lap. Cezar. It took Ace a second to register what the man had said. Cezar. A strange name for the American born and raised Ace but he had already determined this Carna was foreign, at least in his own mind. To Cezar, Ace was probably the foreign one. At least he wouldn’t have to refer to him as ‘The Carna’ now. He repeated the name back to him quietly, “Cezar,” trying to get it to stick in his head, but also to double check he had the pronunciation right. The next word was mostly lost on Ace. He looked over at Cezar, taking in his expression, and assumed the man was thanking him. Or at least, his ego would have liked to think as much. “You’re welcome,” he responded, a small smile spreading across his lips. Perhaps Cezar wasn’t all that bad. Lucy seemed to like him well enough. Ace frowned a little though, he couldn’t let himself get attached. For all he knew, he was fixing this guy up just so that Charm could torture and kill him. And that’s exactly what he would deserve. A few minutes passed before Ace finally felt a little colour back in his cheeks. “Alright,” he murmured, pushing Lucy off his lap and resuming his straddle across Cezar’s legs. “Time to fix that arm,” he pointed towards it, speaking slowly, finally aware that Cezar didn’t understand much English. Lucy went and sat right next to Cezar’s good arm, brushing up against him, her tail wagging. Ace shook his head at her, but couldn’t help from smiling. Whilst Ace couldn’t get passed his prejudice, Lucy seemed to have none at all towards the Carna. Reaching out, Ace wrapped his hands around the broken arm, instantly feeling the bones that were out of place. He grimaced a little as his eyes focused in, seeing all the areas where the bones were poking at the skin. Cezar was brave. That arm would be very painful. “This might hurt,” he said, looking Cezar right in the eyes. Then he focused his energy on healing the bones, moving them back into position, sticking them back together. Finally, the last little bone clicked into place and Ace breathed a sigh of relief. Once again he looked Cezar dead in the eyes. “I’m gonna leave that arm free and trust you enough not to try anything. But if you do, I’ll zap you.” For further emphasis, Ace sent a weak shock, barely more than static electricity, through Cezar’s chest again. Nodding, he rolled back off Cezar and rested on the bars, a little out of breath. Looking over he noticed the man’s lips were chapped and dry, and he could feel his own mouth begging for water. Knocking on the bars to get a guard’s attention, Ace yelled out, “can we get some water in here?” He heard a gruff reply from whichever guard was out there and closed his eyes, waiting for the guard’s return. He knew he was leaving himself open to the Carna, but with the amount of guards outside too, Cezar would never get far. He’d be an idiot to try regardless. The bars were metal, a great conductor of electricity. Ace would always have the upper hand in there. ooc | mo money omg whaaaaaat ev did a thing?!