400yearsofsurvival | 8th Bite // [Spam] // CW for lasting and bloody injuries, mild burns

[ Monday (evening) ]

[ To say he was having difficulty was an understatement. After everything Dillon did, he felt...unsettled. That added to his newest injuries was far more than he wanted to deal with. It was frustrating to wait for these things to heal. The wound should have been gone in less than a minute after the bar had been pulled out. But like the burns, it lingered. The burns were better, now. Thankfully. It wasn't even that they were healed, just...less. They required far less bandages. But his chest, back and side were a mess. Thick bandages wrapping his chest, and more around his palms. He didn't even bother finding a replacement shirt. He just made his way back to Chris's cabin. It was rare that he needed rest. But wounds like this warranted it. ]

[ Tuesday ]

[ Late that day, having slept through most of it, he headed up from the eight level to the fourth. But on the stairs, as he neared his assigned floor, he smelled blood. Sniffing at the air, he was able to find it. Smears. Hand prints. Following it up the stairs, he finally found the source. He watched, from a distance. Stephen, having his little tantrum at the door to CES. He didn't know the reason behind it, or even the implications of it. But seeing the man so very broken was such an incredible pleasure.

But he heard someone approaching. He was in no shape to deal with any one who might assume he'd been involved in the bloody mess on the floor. So he retreated. Shirtless and bandaged, he made a brief stop by the dining hall. But only long enough to gather up half a day's supply of blood rations and fruit. He didn't even bother going for apples, just whatever he could easily grab. Then it was back to the burned out husk of his room to gather up what clothes he had left. Then on to Chris's cabin, where he intended not to leave until he absolutely had to. ]

[ Wednesday ]

[ He didn't feel it anymore. But he had the memory of it. That feeling Dillon's touch had inspired. It had been fleeting at best. But it was a bright flash in something that had been dark for so very long. It was something true and genuine. A stark contrast to the dry and bitter remnants he had left. It wasn't something one could easily ignore.

Between that and his severely weakened state, he wasn't out nearly as much as he'd been before. And he wasn't being quite as careful of his comings and goings as he had been. But he ventured out less often and returned quickly. Going only a few places. Like the dining hall just long enough to grab something. Or the infirmary to have his bandages changed. He was starting to appreciate David in a weird sort of way. Not with any sort of gratitude, thankfully. But there was something to be said for knowing there was at least one entity on this ship he could go to without having to deal with the mess that was most humans. No prying, no questions of morality. Cold and clinical. If only more people on the ship were like that.

Those he'd been watching will notice a very distinct lack of his presence today. And he'll be much harder to find than usual. Unless someone finds out he's in Chris's room. ]

[ Voice ][ Late Wednesday ]

[ He sounds weary. Without his usual menace. ]

What's it take to get a new cabin, on a new level?

[ Private to Chris ][ Voice ][ Later Wednesday ]

[ It's getting into the hours some might refer to as the "dead of night" and Jerry is relocating, after verifying Stiles' hadn't been toying with him. Chris's room is left relatively in tact. The sheets and blankets stripped completely off the bed (because who wants that gross dog smell?), and there may be a bit of blood on the mattress. From the vampires wounds or his feeding habits, who knows. But there's plenty of evidence in the trash that he's been bringing his rations there to consume them. ]

Room's all yours, guy.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I did.

[Ben's voice is firm, decisive, without being dismissive or antagonizing. He is not afraid of Jerry - not only is Ben well aware that he's one of few aboard the ship that could match him if necessary, but it has been several long months since he has feared creatures such as Jerry - inexplicable, non-human, non-transgenic, something other and out of control - with childlike, violent terror. The X5 is confident in himself without being egotistical. It simply is.

Jerry simply is. He is an inmate that needs fed, and he is dangerous, and he has special dietary needs. Ben, as a kitchen supervisor and a warden, must consider each of these with equal weight.]

There is no need to be hostile, sir.

[ Contrary to what many on the ship may believe, only twice has been truly "out of control." Both were thanks to the kid's doppelganger. Though he did come close to it once with Lydia. Anything else had been a well crafted act, or exactly something he'd intended. Unlike others of his kind, he had frightening amount of control.

Ben's tone, however, was not something he was used to. Confident without arrogance. Unafraid but not push. It was enough to make Jerry curious. ]

Then why ask if you already know the answer.

Because often something that seems obvious to me is not as obvious to others and vice versa. Additionally, despite what is logical, you still have the right to choose in this matter.

If you would like to continue appearing here for your dietary needs, that is up to you, sir.

[This is all very matter of fact, though Ben's own gaze does not waver, nor his stance shift. He does not fidget. He rarely does.]

[ He watched the kid for a moment. Trying to determine if the words were meant as a threat or as an invitation. Perhaps even a trap. Only his own kind were ever so calm when it came to things like this. He'd never seen someone human (or near-human, as Ben seemed to be), so unaffected by the subject matter.

A test, he decided. Without the rations, he'd need to start relying on fellow inmates, or perhaps one or two very willing wardens. ]

Just keep them coming. You wouldn't want to be...responsible if I had to find another source.

I wouldn't be responsible.

[It's not anger, just a statement of fact: Ben cannot control Jerry's actions. He simply refuses to carry blame for something Jerry implies would put him at fault. It wouldn't - that, and:]

You misunderstand my intent, sir. Your access to basic, necessary nutrition will not be hindered in any way by myself.

Rather, I was asking if you would prefer that we deliver rations somewhere else for you, so you would not be forced to come here with the rest of the ship.

[Whether for their safety or for Jerry's, Ben doesn't specify. He wouldn't, anyway. He would do it for whoever required protecting if it were the case.]

[ And again, he paused. Scrutinizing Ben. Having it brought to his room would eliminate certain issues. But it required a certain level of trust that he simply did not have. In anyone. But it might give him an a better opportunity to figure this kid out. It was all too complete, too solid, to be an act. A well controlled expression, but to even mask the hidden emotions? There should be tell-tale scents of fear or deception. But there were neither.

So finally, he glanced down at the blood in his hand, then back to Ben. As if finally deciding. ]

Would it be you who brought it or would you send... [ He glanced over the rest of the area where Ben stood, like he was looking for someone. ] ...someone else?

[Ben has been saving his own life by concealing his emotions since he was old enough to understand speech; he was raised into it like most children are raised into crying out for comfort or learning to say please and thank you. It is his coping mechanism.

It's not necessary, now. He doesn't follow Jerry's gaze, aware of who is around him and where; neither does he hesitate to reply.]

I would take responsibility for the task, yes, sir. If I am unavailable or if you would prefer, one of the other supervising wardens - Riddick or Marsh - would likely also be willing to assist.

[They've made special allowances before. Ben doesn't even mind. It's his responsibility, which he takes very seriously, and in turn he is... curious.]

[ Ben isn't the only one who's curious. Which is the only reason Jerry even considered the offer. Getting the kid alone would give him a better chance at picking him apart. To see what makes him tick.

So finally, he gave a slow nod. ]

Alright. But just you. If you can't make it, I'll come up here. And... [ Again, he glanced down at the blood in his hand, giving a vague gesture with it. ] ...bright a few apples, too.

[He wouldn't be the first to try, not by a long shot. Ben has nothing to hide, and in this social peculiarity, finds a kind of strength he never knew existed before the Barge - and a kind of freedom.

It means he doesn't need to fear Jerry even if he was predisposed towards it. He nods easily enough.]

As you like, sir. I will begin tomorrow.

For now, have a good evening.

[ He lingers for a few moments, regarding Ben. The guy had no hesitations about this whole thing. Nor did he give any hint of deception. Honest but without the usual naive innocence. He was as curious as he was suspicious. ]

Thanks.

[ Again, he gestured vaguely with the bag in his hand. ]

See you tomorrow.

[ With one last, lingering look, he headed off. ]

8th Bite // [Spam] // CW for lasting and bloody injuries, mild burns

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