A drugged and locked-up prisoner has escaped. He disappeared through a door that should have led only to a closet. Not only that, but he kicked, not to put too fine a point on it, his guards' asses
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"I need to know the names of the people you were working with against me, what they're planning and what they are capable of."
On working with against me, he punctuates his words with an unspoken instruction to feel shame; not a crippling amount, but enough to guard against any potential desire to do so again. Insinuous really has no intention of taking his chances with this man.
Roy was right. It's not long at all before another door opens, just inside the prison building in a relatively quiet area, and a pair of innocuous people walk through it.
Perhaps it's the crumbling holes he's left in the two walls behind him.
Perhaps it's the long smear of blood on the floor where he's hit it and slid.
Perhaps it's the bright glinting metal bones, which are mostly intact, and the dull white human ones, which aren't, none of which should really be sticking out like that, and all of which are streaked with shining red.
Perhaps it's the fact that, once he comes to a crumpled rest against the bottom of the far wall, he doesn't move.
Chips crawls through both holes, unpleasantly aware of getting Floss' blood all over his hands and his shirt and his trousers. When he sees the man's resting place, he freezes, going numb.
"Floss."
Chips drops down from the second hole onto the floor, starts walking towards the body.
"Floss," he repeats, his mouth working independantly of his brain. "Get up."
Chips kneels down on the floor by the man's side. Warm blood soaks into the knees of his trousers, and his face is only a couple of feet away from the wreck of the body, but it's -- he's not grasping it. It -- it isn't processing, somehow.
"Wake up."
He puts his hand on Floss' shoulder, gives him a little shake.
"Dead, I think. Pyth too, for sure. I-- Aaron can see her body."
If he sounds strange and soft and distant and cold when he says these words, it's because he's never had to deal with the death of a friend before. Not unless he'd killed them, and that's something entirely different.
"Chainsaw's about to take W-- about to take Insinous home and fuck him up good."
He can't quite bring himself to use Pyth's nickname, as much as it's become mental habit since he heard the logic behind it.
"If you got a problem with that, now's the time to raise a fuss."
They'd accepted, all three of them, that there might be casualties. None of them had expected to be able to walk over Insinuous without any kind of effort. Any kind of sacrifice.
But.
She breathes in, one long, clicking, incensed hhhhhh in her artificial throat. Then she speaks, and problems with inflection or not, there's less steel in her entire body than there is to be found in her voice.
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Whatever he's dreaming about, he seems to be enjoying it.
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"Chainsaw. Wake up and answer my questions."
His voice is low, gentle, fatherly, but still matter-of-fact.
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"Hey, boss. What's up?"
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On working with against me, he punctuates his words with an unspoken instruction to feel shame; not a crippling amount, but enough to guard against any potential desire to do so again. Insinuous really has no intention of taking his chances with this man.
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The minute he closes the door behind them, he knows something's wrong.
Voicing his concerns, however, can wait until he's assessed the situation immediately to hand.
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An instant later, he remembers Aaron, and moves out of the way so that the invisible man can come through.
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"We've g-got a problem, guys."
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Perhaps it's the crumbling holes he's left in the two walls behind him.
Perhaps it's the long smear of blood on the floor where he's hit it and slid.
Perhaps it's the bright glinting metal bones, which are mostly intact, and the dull white human ones, which aren't, none of which should really be sticking out like that, and all of which are streaked with shining red.
Perhaps it's the fact that, once he comes to a crumpled rest against the bottom of the far wall, he doesn't move.
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"Floss."
Chips drops down from the second hole onto the floor, starts walking towards the body.
"Floss," he repeats, his mouth working independantly of his brain. "Get up."
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But he's breathing, although it's faint. That means he's alive. He's breathing. He's...
...no. No, he's not.
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Chips kneels down on the floor by the man's side. Warm blood soaks into the knees of his trousers, and his face is only a couple of feet away from the wreck of the body, but it's -- he's not grasping it. It -- it isn't processing, somehow.
"Wake up."
He puts his hand on Floss' shoulder, gives him a little shake.
"Wake up."
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Aaron Luke is the first through. He holds it open for Lu to follow.
As she crosses the threshold, his face changes from grim resolution to brief shock, then steadies into something more neutral.
"We got him."
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"hhnhAnd Floss?" she asks, and the tightness of her words is about as tense as her voice is capable of getting.
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If he sounds strange and soft and distant and cold when he says these words, it's because he's never had to deal with the death of a friend before. Not unless he'd killed them, and that's something entirely different.
"Chainsaw's about to take W-- about to take Insinous home and fuck him up good."
He can't quite bring himself to use Pyth's nickname, as much as it's become mental habit since he heard the logic behind it.
"If you got a problem with that, now's the time to raise a fuss."
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They'd accepted, all three of them, that there might be casualties. None of them had expected to be able to walk over Insinuous without any kind of effort. Any kind of sacrifice.
But.
She breathes in, one long, clicking, incensed hhhhhh in her artificial throat. Then she speaks, and problems with inflection or not, there's less steel in her entire body than there is to be found in her voice.
"hhhI have no objection to that."
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