Vixere — Roleplayer Guild

Having returned to her workshop, the dirty windows in need of a thorough scrub let in plenty of light as Doctor Taylor's small frame puttered about.  Placing tools and materials back onto shelves that were immaculately clean and organized, it looked like a different place and time to walk into the old pharmacy.  Despite the grime of age without heavy chemicals to clean it, and a need to take vinegar to the glass panes, it looked nice.  Not clinical, but warm and open.   Beyond the open areas that had plenty of space unused where the shelves had once been and were now repurposed, the back area originally made to compound and make medications now housed her carefully scavenged research equipment.  The break room had become her bedroom with what was essentially a full-size futon, but she hadn't bothered to look for anything better with the time crunches she was usually under.

Hearing the door bell chime as the woman was lifting her apron off to hang it up, warm brown eyes traced over to Sawyer and Freya as they entered.  They seemed to be together most of the time, which was fine by the doctor.  A small, tired smile went onto her features at the sight of them, though it was obvious that the ginger was exhausted.  Sleep was too often sacrificed for everything and everyone else, and it showed in how bloodshot her eyes were as well as the dark circles present and dullness in her skin.

"Just some supplies for the augments," came the soft reply. "There's an AutoZone a couple miles up the road, we need lubricants and screws.  Tawny's are starting to strip and with wetter weather coming, you both need to make sure you're oiling everything well to avoid rust and breakdown."  Pushing a hand through her hair, the long strands were tossed over her shoulders.

Going to her work bench, a pencil and paper were used to write a short list of things that would be needed for her work and to keep the false limbs in working condition.

Hydraulic lubricant
Screws of various sizes
Protective oils
Small gauge wiring
Whatever you think is useful

Handing the list over, the woman sat back down at her work bench.  "Your leg is all right for a run?  Otherwise you two could take horses, but Tawny will be very sad if you lose them."

Commotion.  Enhanced senses heard it before there was one little key of their walkies, something that could have been considered nothing more than a mistaken touch of the button.  Brows knit together as her head turned, forcing Eden's body to stand from where it had been sitting.  From her vantage point, it was easy to see that the guard below was pointing his weapon at something or someone, and it garnered interest from the veritable attack dog in human form.  Climbing down and dropping onto the catwalk atop the walls, her leisurely pace soon changed to a dead sprint as a large form managed to clear the defenses and knocked the man out cold.

What was his name?  Gomez?

Eden couldn't remember.

What she could focus on was that this newcomer was on the guard, and as his body hit the grating as he was knocked out, the urge to protect was stronger than self-preservation.

"Oi!" The large woman called before reaching them, breaking the large man's concentration long enough to push herself between the two and practically whip the poor, unconscious man to the side like a ragdoll.  It created the space needed to keep him safe from the...

... was that an arm?   He was eating an arm?  Violet eyes narrowed as she glared into the man's blues with an intensity known only to their kind.  Meeting his gaze brought an instant sense of connection that snapped between them like electricity, reminding her of something that hadn't been felt for over four years.  Blinking for a moment in surprise, an overwhelming emotion of Pack came over the experiment and it meant that it stopped her from body slamming this strange man to the stage.

"I... you're Genesis?" Eden finally asked, her voice kept fairly quiet between them.  Her accent was strange, a mix of British and Ukrainian, as she spoke.  "But not my Generation." Lifting her hand, Eden's features twisted in concern.  "We do not eat that kind of flesh here, brother... and we do not attack civilians.  Toss the arm, we can talk.  You're going to create chaos where it should be haven."
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Littera scripta manet.

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