{SB} Someday, When We Are Wiser

[Lucy James]

OoC note: This thread takes place after the events of [SB] All Dolled Up [Trigger Warning: Violence and Adult Situations, Parental Discretion is advised]

Lucy sat on the edge of the bed next to the boy whose name she still didn't know the name of. On the bed there was a first aid kit that had clearly been used, pieces of the boy's shirt that she'd cut up to clean the wounds, pieces of pads with stained blood on them, a bottle of some kind of alcohol, clearly used to clean the wounds, bandage and band aid wrappers, and other medical supplies required to take care of things like that, empty cans of beer, some bags of chip and various other snacks, and of course a small -currently- half empty bag of weed.

Lucy watched the TV screen in front of her absentmindedly. She had no idea what the movie was about, but that was probably because of the amount of weed she'd gotten into her system. It had surely calmed her down a lot after the tirades earlier that morning. The boy had been in an out the past few hours, and after a while, she had force-fed him with some painkillers mixed with beer - because obviously she was too lazy to get a glass of water.

The groan coming from the guy had the brunette's head turning and she leaned down onto her side, studying his face. "About damn time you woke up. I've been bored out of my freakin' mind, and I couldn't very well leave you here all alone; though... now that I think about it, it'd totes save me a lot of trouble..." she furrowed her brows as if she was actually considering it.

[Taylor McCarthy]

The memories of what transpired once the two of them had escaped the house of horrors were hazy and comprised mostly of single images that flashed through the darkness. There was the city street outside. Lucy lingering over him with a look of contempt. The ceiling of the hotel. The lack of focused details was an alien concept to Taylor and it only proceeded to add to the disoriented state he drifted in an out of over the course of the last few hours. That was the problem with most mutations that involved some mental or physical process to work faster than normal. They had a tendency to overload.

Slowly the world came into focus. Taylor let out a low groan as that also meant the splitting headache that had persisted through the beer and pills Lucy had been feeding him throbbed with full force. He heard the girl speak but the words barely registered through the fog and heavy pounding through his head. "What the hell happened?" He asked before sucking air through his teeth in a pained wince at the pain that shot through his shoulder. He turned just enough to twist his head around to get a look at the tightly bandaged wound on his shoulder and let out a low exhale of breath.

"Well, I guess we're even." He commented idly, settling back onto the bed and turning his gaze up toward Lucy. The typical playful gleam couldn't be found in those deep, brown eyes of his just yet but he was calm, and collected. His power had overloaded and was resting comfortably now, letting his brain operate as normal for the time being. He looked at her for a moment and then his attention wander about the room. He didn't remember walking anywhere so whatever happened had been the brunette's doing. He nodded a little bit, returning his focus back to the girl. "I guess I should thank you for at least getting me off the street." He said, his tone quiet and almost subdued for the moment.

[Lucy James]

Lucy continued watching the guy for a bit, then when she was sure he wasn't dying or delusional, she pulled away and re-positioned herself on the edge of the bed, her blue moving back towards the screen. She shrugged at his words. "I'd rather not get hauled in for leaving someone on the street to die," she replied simply. Her actions might not have been as selfish as she'd like to claim, but it had been a huge part of why she'd done what she'd done. There was no denying that, and anyone who questioned it was foolish for thinking otherwise.

She turned her head though, furrowing her brows somewhat. "You probably should lie on your back," she said, pursing her lips. "Well, not unless you wanna be in pain. In which case, go for it. Just don't scream so loud that I don't hear the TV." With that, Lucy turned back at the TV and opened another bag of chips. She was glad the amount of weed had at the very least clouded her mind enough that she didn't have to worry about the past events. Her mind was too scattered to really hold onto any kind of thought for very long.

[Taylor McCarthy]

"Regardless of your motives, thanks anyway." There was nothing like blood loss coupled with a nearly traumatic even and an overloaded power to take the edge of Tayor's voice. He settled into the bed a little and brought his uninjured arm up to press into his eyes. "Oh, Jesus Christ." He mumbled. "My head is fucking killing me." It didn't help that he'd smacked his head off the ground when he'd passed out either. "Did you sneak in a few shots for yourself while I was out? Feels like you did a number on my skull."

He dared to carefully open his eyes again, hoping it wouldn't antagonize the throbbing in his head even more. There was just a hint of worry in his gaze as he shifted to look at Lucy. She wasn't paying much attention, which came to no surprise. She didn't come off as the nurturing type. "Have you heard anything? You know, about our friend back there?" He asked. Taylor had no intention on having a lengthy discussion about what had transpired mere hours ago but he felt it needed addressed. For all he knew police were crawling the area and Lucy was hiding out after she'd gotten him off the street.

[Lucy James]

"That's probably the painkillers and the alcohol working at your system," Lucy shrugged. She paused then as she cast him a glance. "And no, you only got enough to take away the worst of the edge. Nothing that'll hurt your system." At least Lucy had learned about dosages and what it could be mixed with without causing any harm from her cute little habit of propping her system full with poison. "Don't worry, it'll pass through your system in tops a few hours, all depending." She turned back at the TV.

His question had Lucy sighing. No, she hadn't heard anything, but she hadn't exactly been paying attention either. The less she knew, the better she figured it would be. Besides, those types hardly seemed like the kind of guys who'd involve the cops. "No," she began, chewing on her bottom lip. "It's been quiet from what I can tell."

[Taylor McCarthy]

Taylor nodded a little. Lucy had certainly done her homework when it came to drugs and, for whatever reason, he figured he could trust her. She'd given him no sign that he should, however, but he doubted Lucy was the type to throw him under the bus and leave him to deal with the consequences of their actions. He slowly shifted to sit up, being mindful of his shoulder, and looked over the room a bit. "Alcohol?" He said curiously, a weak smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "What've you got? I could use a drink right about now."

No news was good news, in this case. Taylor hoped the shady people they'd had a run-in with wouldn't be the type to involve the authorities if anything bad happened but he didn't know. It was entirely possible the cops could have been in the back pocket of whatever psycho organization was being ran, or helped being ran, or just being worked for by the guy who's name escaped Taylor. He remembered the face though, laying silent as the blood trickled from a split open forehead. "What's your plan?" He asked, his eyes shifted to look at the TV even though he wasn't watching it. "Are we going back to the ship at nightfall?"

[Lucy James]

Leaning to the side, Lucy grabbed the cans of beer and moved it over to the boy. "That's all I could get my hands on," she said before she looked over at the raided mini-bar. "Well, I used those bottles for your shoulder," she added with a shrug. Besides, the beer wasn't too bad, all things considered. It was far from the best thing she'd ever tasted, but it did the trick, as long as you drank enough of them.

"I doubt it would be very wise to venture out now," she said, her gaze moving towards the windows she'd pulled the curtains in front of. She'd only gone outside to run across the street to the small supermarket to get the needed items for his wound and the beer, along with some of the snack she hadn't raided from the mini-bar. "But hey, if you wanna get your scrawny ass caught, by all means. Would mean I could leave much earlier while they're busy man-handling you."

[Taylor McCarthy]

"Ah, you're a saint." He breathed, reaching out to gladly accept the cans Lucy handed over. He gathered one and popped the tab and took a long pull. It wasn't the highest quality beer he'd ever drank but at this moment the cold liquid felt amazing going down his throat. After downing nearly half the can in a single go, Taylor lowered it and exhaled sharply before letting out a laugh. "Resourceful too?" He said, a hint of that familiar playfulness beginning to creep back into his voice. "At least I won't be out of place smelling like nine different kinds of liquor."

A snort of a chuckle escaped at the mere thought of him attempting to even get to his feet right now, let alone trying to sneak unnoticed onto a ship crawling with teachers and students. "Even though it's tempting to spend a couple nights in jail, I think it's in my best interests to remain with present company." He reached over and set the beer can aside. He'd wake up some more, get to feeling a bit closer to normal before finishing off the rest. "I've had enough manhandling for one day, thank you very much."

[Lucy James]

His words had her nodding towards the bathroom. "Worst comes to worst, you can always just take a shower." She shrugged at that before casting a glance his way. "And you can kiss your shirt goodbye," she said as she gestured towards the bits and pieces of red fabric lying spread across the bed and floor. She had to cut it open to get to his wounds. She didn't risk pulling it off in case that made his wounds worse. Besides, dragging him here had been a feat on it's own. She'd hardly had the power, nor the time to somehow manage to pull the t-shirt of someone much larger and heavier than herself while they were unconscious.

"Never say never." Though in truth, she didn't really blame him. What had happened would usually be enough drama for anyone for a whole year. Sadly, Lucy doubted that this would be the last time she got herself in this kind of situation and it had hardly been the first. She wondered if she'd ever get used to it, or if she already had. Of course, it always made it easier when you could drown your sorrows in alcohol and drugs.

[Taylor McCarthy]

"Don't worry. I will once I feel like I can get on my feet." Taylor replied with a low groan as he pressed his fingers into his eyes again. His head still throbbed, even though the ache had begun to die down. Eventually he'd be able to get up and about, but for now he was content to remain right where he was. Even the talk of his ruined shirt did nothing to get a rise out of him. "That's fine. Judging by how my back feels there probably wasn't enough left of it to salvage.

Taylor didn't need to be told, advised, or even have it idly suggested in passing to be determined to remain right where he was for the time being. He might, might venture out once it got later to find something to eat but even that was iffy at this point. Slowly but surely his mind began to recount the previous hours' events. He watched Lucy for a moment in silence, wondering how she was truly taking it all. He wished that just for a few minutes he could talk to her and get the truth without having to wade through the evasive comments, insults, and petty banter. "How're you holding up?" He asked, his tone soft and carrying a certain caution to it.

[Lucy James]

"Probably," she replied absentmindedly. Truth be told, Lucy couldn't have given a damn about his shirt anyways, even if it had somehow hurt his feelings that it had been shredded. Unless he of course would have preferred to walking around as he had, with glass and wounds everywhere. At least now the wounds had been cleaned and taken care of, and that would probably quickly prove to be a lot less hassle for her to deal with in the future.

His question had Lucy pursing her lips, which he of course wouldn't see considering how her gaze was practically glued to the screen in front of her. She shrugged in response though. What did he expect anyways? That she'd sit down and tell him all about her feelings and how she was doing? No, not even something like this would change that. Besides, Lucy wasn't even sure how she was feeling about all of this. Which in truth was more because of the drugs than her inability to express herself. "I'm good."

[Taylor McCarthy]

A low sigh escaped as Taylor then shifted to swing his feet over the edge of the bed. After pausing long enough to press the palm of his hand into his forehead, he pushed off the bed and stood. He was surprised he didn't feel worse, given the circumstances. A marathon was hardly on the docket for this evening but he would consider himself to have gotten lucky he hadn't been hurt worse.

He went to speak again but the words never came out. His mind was still cycling through what had happened and bits and pieces of the altercation were beginning to filter back into his memory. The details he could glean from a given scene was his blessing and curse. The image of Lucy's face right before she registered he'd jumped on the guy's back flashed in Taylor's mind. There wasn't fear in those brilliant, crystal blue eyes of hers. It was resignation. As if she was going through the motions of some arduous task while attempting to send her mind elsewhere until it was finished. His heart sank at the sudden realization. It had happened before.

Thankful that Lucy couldn't see the brief flashes of emotion that touched his face, Taylor moved to her side and lightly placed a hand on her shoulder as she watched the TV. "I think I'm going to get that shower." He said, his tone still low. "You sure you're alright?" He had to ask. Just once more.

[Lucy James]

Lucy could feel her muscles tense at the sudden touch, but she didn't react. She simply furrowed her brows and continued staring absentmindedly at the television in front of her. "Unless you're deaf, I'm pretty sure you heard me the first time," she said, looking up at him. Her expression was of its usual stoic nature; it was no huge secret that the brunette had done an impeccable job at keeping everything locked up and hidden.

Usually, the brunette was stoic and indifferent, and the most emotion someone ever got out of her was annoyance and anger. Even when she smiled, there was always a hint of some malicious coldness lingering behind it. Shrugging his hand off her shoulder, she turned her gaze back at the television. "Weren't you going?" she asked as she pressed her lips together into a thin line.

[Taylor McCarthy]

In all, Taylor didn't know what he expected. He had to try one more time, just for good measure. He thought maybe, just maybe Lucy would have gotten tired of this game and tried something else, anything. Even if she only spoke to him so he'd stop bothering her he'd consider it some minor victory. He didn't keep his hand from being pushed away and only nodded before crossing in front of Lucy on his way to the small, hotel bathroom.

The hot water soothed his throbbing head and aching muscles. With his hands pressed against the wall he let the stream cascade down his body, sending the dirt and dried blood swirling down the drain at his feet. For the first time since he'd met Lucy, Taylor began to question what he was doing. Maybe she was right. Maybe he was wasting his time. Maybe some people just weren't able to be saved. Of course, that begged the question of why he was doing it in the first place. It wasn't fun, he didn't get any enjoyment of having a front row seat to someone's utter destruction. He also wasn't trying to play the hero, nor did he ever get an impulse to do anything nice simply for the sake of being nice. No one in their right mind would have put so much effort and taken so much abuse simply for the hell of it. Why was he doing it? What could he possibly hope to accomplish? And why did he outright refuse to give up?

Upon stepping out onto the thin rug placed just outside the shower Taylor noticed a startling lack of towels in the bathroom. He looked all around, under the sink... Actually that was the only place he could check in the small room that wasn't easily visible. With a resigned sigh he bent down and plucked his jeans off the floor and tugged them on. Guess he was going to have to air dry. "Just a warning." He said, opening the door and moving into the hotel room proper. "If you take a shower, there aren't any towels."

[Lucy James]

She didn't look at him even as he stepped out of the shower, but now the brunette had taken up majority of the space in the bed. Lying in the middle of it with her feet crossed and her arms propped up behind her head, she was still very much watching the television with as little amusement as humanly possible.

"Alright," she replied as her head tilted to the side. She cast him a quick glance, only to look back at the television again. "There should be some unopened bags of snack on the bed." She nodded towards the heaps of snacks and cans of beer. Lucy then scooted over, as she sincerely doubted the guy wanted to stand around like that all day long and the only options for sitting was either the bed or a chair that looked as if it had seen better days - and was probably filled with its fair share of fleas.

Lucy had already kicked of her heels, which laid on the floor somewhere, along with the cropped cardigan - which she had used to stop the bleeding from his wounds until she'd gotten the first aid kit.