Force and Fury — Roleplayer Guild

Location: Cross-street Battleground @ The Ruined City     //     Date: February 23, 2057     //     Time: 11:20     //     Interactions: Akaia @Exit, Erik @FunnyGuy.

Lysandra was thinking irrational thoughts: emotional thoughts, and she didn’t like it. Akaia had deigned to appear sometime after Lys had rushed over from treating Vincent, and was now… being a panicky bitch. As she and Erik had helped Poppy onto Iron Horse, the human had taken a deep inward breath and ignored the priceless medical equipment being carelessly tossed on the ground by a shimmering cloud. Akaia was stressed. She was worried. Her reaction was… garbage, but Lys could sympathize with it. The main matter here was getting Poppy off of her feet and keeping her resting but awake. It was not as bad as the brain bleed that she’d feared, but a concussion was no laughing matter. There was a cut she’d briefly dabbed at with a swab while Poppy had been leaning against her wheelchair, but it wasn’t deep and it would scab. Any cut on the head bled a lot due to the density of blood vessels, but that didn’t make it serious, and definitely not worth wasting bandages on when they were at a premium. That’s just rational, Lys reassured herself, Right?

But then, as she was just about to start moving, as Desmond had agreed to start moving, Birdbrain plucked the last of their bandages from the bag, leaving everything else on the ground, including her coat, and shouldered past Lys and Erik, giving them the evil eye and some sort of… Is that the Sidhe version of a middle finger?

Uh oh…

Akaia knelt before Poppy, shifting the concussed patient and wrapping her head with the finesse of an ox, all while stealing glares at Lys and Erik. You’re testing me, the former thought.  She's upset, the latter frowned. Stupid goddamned child: you are really fucking testing me right now. Against her better nature and judgement, Lys rolled up to the Sidhe. “There a reason you’re glaring at me like I don’t know what I’m doing?” she demanded. “There a reason you’re tossing our sterilized medical supplies on the ground and wasting our last few bandages, less than halfway into the mission, for a minor scalp cut?” Her eyes were wide with anger, nostrils flared. “Hmm?” She prodded. “Because there had better be a damned good reason.”

Akaia leaned toward Poppy protectively on Lysandra's approach and then held up a hand in front of her own face. The fingers were stained a deep red up to the knuckles.  “Blood.” She hissed under her breath.

Yes, Lysandra thought, ‘Blood’. ‘Hand,’ Lysandra thought. ‘Bandage,’ Lysandra thought. ‘Pah-pee’, Lysandra thought as well, in the most condescending internal tone. For fuck’s sake, I am surrounded by intellectual pygmies. She raged at their stupidity, simplicity, and emotionality. For just a split second - so fast that she could later convincingly deny that it had ever happened - she hated Akaia with every fibre of her being. She hated the mission. She hated the team. She hated herself for needing the team to be able to do anything of consequence. Then, it passed, a hot wash of guilt and recognition of her hypocrisy following quickly on its heels. 

In psychological terms, this was the ‘Curse of Knowledge’: when you’re advanced enough on a topic, it can be hard to explain things to people who aren’t. It can be hard, even, to see their perspective. Lys realized that she hadn’t even explained. She should’ve seen this coming. She should’ve said something to prevent the inevitable freakout. Akaia was… protective of Poppy. Lys was… not good with other people’s emotions. She knew that. God, if only the world could all just see things my - objectively superior - way. She indulged herself the arrogant little thought, not truly meaning it, at least not entirely. 

“Yes,” she replied, counseling herself calm. “I know she’s bleeding. I know it looks bad.” She tried not to use the voice that she would with a very young child - that was condescending - but it was an effort not to. “Akaia, part of that is because you keep touching it, and most is because that’s what happens with head cuts. There are a lot of blood vessels in your head, but there’s no real danger. I would’ve wrapped her if there was.” Her eyes flicked between the two Sidhe and briefly over to Erik’s silently engaged face before returning. “Why didn’t you trust me? Or at least ask me? Are we teammates or not?” She didn’t really even want to deal with this. She put hands to wheels, ready to turn away and deal with shit that she knew how to handle. There were no more bandages. The supplies were still on the ground. Someone would have to clean up the mess.

Akaia shook her head. "No time." She then pointed at her head in a gesture that didn't make any real sense. "I fee-... kno-...I kno-... " Her face turned to a grimace as a thought became lodged and instead of voicing it she grabbed her chest and grunted quietly. "'If you don't help you will die.'" She said in someone else's voice. There was a quiver to her lip as she spoke though it was hard to tell if it was from her anger or something else.

Lysandra regarded Akaia incredulously for a moment. That wasn’t a threat. It was a mimic. Someone had spoken precisely those words, in that tone, to the Sidhe at some point and she’d thought it meaningful to bring up right now. Lys jerked forward, blinking. “Flower Power, what the fuck? Who said that to you? Why are you trying to creep me out?”

“A dead man. Dead. I ki-” She stopped herself before she could finish the word, biting her lip as if she were holding something in rather than forgetting it. Her body seemed to tremble slightly.

Lysandra raised an eyebrow. “I think the word you were looking for was ‘killed’, hun, unless it was ‘kicked’, in which case I’m jealous.” She paused, tucking away any sort of mocking attitude. This was clearly a matter of import for Akaia. “Listen: I’m sure you had your reasons. I’m sure it still doesn’t feel good to kill someone.” She reached out and squeezed the younger woman’s shoulder. “I don’t wanna pry, but it sounded important. Trust me: Poppy will be fine unless something big changes, and I’ll be keeping an eye on her. You can join me, but I need to know why you’d tell me that. It sounded really important.”

Akaia looked at Poppy and then at her hand, staring at the red for a moment before turning back to Lysandra. As she opened her mouth to speak, her lips began to form the edges of a word but before she could speak it, the shape changed as if she was fighting with herself. “Pa-pee will be fine.” She repeated in her own voice. “Promise.” Although stated, it was delivered as if it were a question or a challenge, the answer to which she waited on bated breath.

Lys scowled. She hated being put on the spot. There were so many variables, and now Akaia was dangling her cooperation out there as reward for a promise that no responsible medical practitioner would ever make. Nothing was an absolute but, to the best of Lysandra’s knowledge, Poppy would, indeed, be okay unless outside circumstances intervened. When will you people learn to stop asking me for answers?“I promise that she will be okay as long as she is kept safe and protected.” Lys sniffed and rubbed at her nose with the back of a hand. The air was scratchy. “Now we have to get moving and I need to know why you’d say something like that. If someone or something out there is trying to kill us or knows about a danger, we all need to know: not just me.”

“It’s not anything to worry about.” Erik butted in, his tone oddly stern towards both Lys and Akaia. “Akaia, Pops will be fine, okay? Lys has her.” Erik closed the distance between he and Akaia, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I promise." He gave Akaia a slight squeeze before giving Poppy one more glance. 

“With Poppy staying with the Rear Team, I’ll need you all on your toes.”‘On your toes,’ Lys snorted inwardly. Cerise, Akaia, and I will ensure you’re informed of the threat ahead. That or we’ll take them out if we feel it’s easier. Remember, it’s not about killing every Lost we see. It’s about getting in and getting out.” His eyes then peered down at the medical supplies on the ground. With a crouch, he scooped them up. They wouldn’t be very effective but Erik decided to pocket them anyway. It was just the way he was. Finding use in the lowliest of junk.

“Uhhhh, Erik?” Lys prodded.

“Hm? What? What did I forget this time?” His eyes were wide and attentive.

“So, all concerns about pretty much every bit of good medical practice aside, you uh…might not want to put a scalpel in your pocket.” There was a brief pause as Erik just awkwardly stared at Lys for a moment his eyebrows perked up. 

“Crap!” He quickly dug into his pocket, which was a frightening sight and fortunately removed the scalpel with that bright smile of his. “Thanks, Lys!”

Lysandra put on her winningest smile. “Anytime gramps. Gotta save the senile from themselves.” She winked as she put hands to wheels and started moving, bending over briefly to pick a stray pill bottle up and toss it onto her lap. It was all an act, of course. Akaia had said something important: literally about a person or thing that could kill them, and Lys struggled to think of anything more worth worrying about than that. Yet, when she’d inquired, she’d pretty much been told to sit down, shut up, and ask no questions as if she were some petulant child. The first was no issue; it was every day of her life. The second was harder, for it went against her nature. The third was impossible if she were to do her job as the Commune’s head (and only) researcher. The old guard were keeping secrets from her, plain and simple. She wasn’t trusted at that level, clear as a ray of sun. There might've been confounding variables, but she wasn't even privy to those, and that, in particular, stunk. Lys hadn't made any more of it mostly for the sake of group harmony during a dangerous mission and because Erik, for all that he claimed not to be in charge, very much was. There was simply no winning play. Moments like this were why she’d been a lone operator for the first twenty-eight years of her life and why the four since had sucked. She rolled along in silence, glancing back at Poppy with a slight twinge of worry and at Erik and Akaia with well-hidden resentment.
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