I don't mind paying, is my point. You have a business to run and people to see to in your home, right? I pay for clothes, these days, and the occasional small thing. Hawke...insists on paying for me because I want for very little and I think he wants to feel useful.
[ For little things, of course. Food when they order in, groceries if he's out with her, small things when she asks. But Ava doesn't eat much, steals some things, and never really asks for much besides his company. And she does have a good job, if morbid. She thinks Hawke would pay for more if she let him.
Ava's chasing her food and martini with water now, both to listen but also because that hunger is growing, not to the point of ravenous - and not specifically a hunger for blood, just for...food - and she thinks listening will keep her from being too fixated on it.
She listens, taking in the names. Has he mentioned them before? She feels like he's mentioned 'Leitner' before in passing, but never really indulged in who he was. ]
Books touched by...
[ Bad. That's really bad. ]
Sorry, sorry. One thing at a time. Go ahead, I'm listening.
[He'll have to tell her about Leitner's library later. Jon sips his wine periodically as he speaks, barely noticing as he refills for a third glass or the fact that he's getting increasingly verbal with his hands as he tips further into drunkenness.]
Most of Salesa's cargo finds its way around the world via ship. He's been a sailor most of his life now, or at least the life I've read about in the Statements. During one of his voyages when he was getting started out, he let the crew check his more... unusual cargo. He had the cook on the ship minding it for this particular voyage and he found that the man was taking increasingly long in his inspections. Finally, he went down to confront him when he'd taken an age and found Cook staring at an antique meat grinder. Salesa didn't know there was anything particular unusual about the meat grinder then, so he offered to sell to the man on the spot. A tidy deal, he though. Cook accepted and that was that as far as Salesa was concerned.
Almost immediately after that, Cook began serving portions of meat at the meal. Not unusual, really. A man might like to test his new 'toy.' But it kept going. Meat and meat and meat, far more than they should have had available in the stores on a voyage like this. He also noticed that Cook, himself was changed. He'd always been a meticulous man, but now there were small bloodstains on his clothes. Not something most would pay attention to on a ship, but enough that Salesa noticed. Cook had also started hiding his left arm. Always with a coat or something draped over it, even when it was too hot to warrant it. Salesa stopped eating the meat at the meals.
It went on, though. The quartermaster couldn't account for it in the stocks, so Salesa went snooping in the kitchen. He found the meat grinder there, perfect, polished, looking practically brand new. There was also a stock pot with rather suspicious-looking bones in it. He didn't have time for too close a look, though. So he came back when he knew Cook would be there...
[A pause for effect as much as to take another sip of wine.]
He broke into the kitchen, surprising the man. He found Cook's severed arm on the counter, the stump shoved deep into the meat grinder. He was grinding away with his free hand an ecstatic look on his face. It wasn't his own flesh coming through as mince, though. No. Cook was pulling a new arm out of the grinder's funnel. Slowly, painfully, blissfully.
Of course, Salesa grabbed the man, demanding answers. Cook panicked, tried to kill him, and Salesa dispatched the man. The crew threw him overboard, but Salesa kept the grinder, sold it to some Canadian who went missing a few years later. If that meat grinder or something like it found its way into the kitchens here... that might be why we've come here.
[ Jon has himself a devoted audience, as Ava slips into listening with rapt attention. The quality of Jon's voice, while dramatic, still falls into a strange cadence that almost seems...smoother when he talks, like he's memorized these things, like he has the Statement in front of him.
She's not fixed on it. But she's absorbing the information, sipping her water intermittently, mouth gone dry. She doesn't touch the meat, even if she's chipping away a little at a time with the cheese board.
When he comes to the end, she's gone pale. ]
Christ.
[ Ava drinks from her glass, finishing it, stomach roiling painfully with discomfort...and the gnawing hunger, which she dislikes even more now. ]
Maybe. You think maybe things like that are collecting in a world like this... Like sewage dump in a nexus? Your story reminds me of a nagaraja I met--
[ Oh. And her food's here now. Christ.
Ava looks even worse now, because the food smells really, really good. She's ordered it mostly rare so she can try to figure out what it is, and she gives it a good look when she realizes--
Well, it's not a sure thing. But she's pretty sure she knows that smell now. And the smell of the 'gravy' that's being poured. The waiter starts to leave. ]
Hey, uh, sorry-- Sorry. I don't get to know what the special is?
[ The waiter smiles. "It's our specialty for a reason! And it's not something we can just tell people--" ]
Oh, come on. [ She's staring right at him now, eyes on his. ] Tell me what it is.
[ He stops. Stares. He can't break away. "It's...rare meat. Very rare. Sourced from donors!" Ava's about to start literally digging into his mind if he doesn't give her a straight answer. Does he even know? ]
[It's all Jon manages to get out the server steps in with Ava's food. It does smell delicious. But after recounting Salesa's tale, that just makes the Archivist all the more suspicious. And as Ava uses her own brand of compelling. Jon's tape recorder clicks itself back on. Apparently this is important.]
What type of donors?
[The tape recorder hisses with static.
"Consensual. Entirely consensual donors. I can assure you we're not that sort of canteen."
Cannibals. These people just straight cannibals.]
Where are they, your willing donors?
[The man is struggling now under the weight of both Ava's Dominate and Jon's compelling power. "The-the... I don't know? I think the hospital? The charity shops?"]
Right.
[He's a little drunk, but that doesn't matter.]
Ava, we're going to hospital. Now.
[The server looks alarmed. "But your food!"]
Eat it yourself.
[He pulls out his wallet and puts down several hundred dollars. He'd sort of been planning to use that for Integra's 'signing bonus,' but here they are. He can get more.]
[ Cannibals. They're fucking cannibals and she almost was going to eat--
Her stomach churns painfully. Ava doesn't know how she keeps herself from throwing up, but she realizes she knew exactly what cooked human flesh smelled like long before this, and the memory is so visceral that her grip on the table tightens almost to the point of snapping it beneath the pressure of her hands. It's a good thing that Jon jumps in, because Ava's agitation skyrockets, and she is terribly close to grabbing the waiter and pulling him into the room, and that won't end well for anyone.
...Or maybe it wasn't great that Jon jumped in, because he's tipsy and throwing money on the table, saying they're going to head out, and...
This really isn't going to go well. Ava stands after Jon leaves the room and she follows him out the door, not once mentioning how she's still hungry. Being in the hospital may or may not make things better on that end. ]
No one's going to give us this information, Jon. It's probably privacy protected. And we really can't be compelling hospital staff on their shift.
[ Is that stopping her from following him? No.
Is it stopping her from looking for a side door? Not at all. ]
[Jon lets his instinct guide him as they leave the canteen and walk along the pavement. His senses are alive and he is hungry and focused. So very, very focused.]
Why not? We need to know why these people are doing this. What's making them 'willing' donors.
[There's his Statement. That's what he wants. That's why the Beholding sent him to that restaurant. The nearest hospital isn't difficult to find. Jon strides with surety, some of the fear burned out of him for the moment. The drink is helping with that, but it's more than that. The Archivist Knows this is what he needs to do. With as little certainty as there is in his life, it's hard not to grasp it and cling tight when it comes.]
[ And they still don't know what'll happen if they're not out of here by then. Die? Suffer some other horrible end? She'd like to not be caught here if she can help it.
Ava's wandering after him, and she does see a side door that seems to go into the back of the hospital, which seems...dark? But it's evening, so maybe they're down to smaller staff? It's hard to tell, and she gets the door for Jon as they head in. There are only a few people in the waiting room and things seem quiet enough. Not unheard of, as it might not be the only hospital in the city. The man at the front desk asks if they're there to check in, and if someone's injured.
[It's more than enough time, and Jon steps in when Ava holds the door open.]
I'm here to make a donation. [Jon's eyes are fixed on the man who blinks in surprise as they approach.
"Oh! Um... well, the finance department is closed this late, but if you come back-"]
Not a financial contribution. Something else.
["Something... else?" His smile is about as fake as it's possible to be. "You'll need to be specific."]
A few excess pounds. What would you be able to tell me about that, Davis?
[There's a soft hiss from the tape recorder.
"Not... much? I mean, I don't work downstairs. I just know that people donate their bodies for tax write-offs and to pay debts. You'd need to head to the basement." He pauses, an expression of confusion crossing his face. "W-wait. Why did I...?"]
Come on, Ava. That's all we needed, Davis. Thank you. Why don't you get a coffee? It's late isn't it? You must need a little pick-me-up by now.
[Davis opens his mouth, then closes it a few times, backing away from the desk and nodding mutely before walking off.]
[ It's...weird to watch Jon in action. To see him stirred up and plucking at information right and left, divesting it from people without a care while he remains focus and steadfast on his goal. She knows, deep down, that she's looking in a mirror of parallel actions and has no room to judge him. But Jon is so set on this that she doesn't bother to ask him what he'll do once he knows the truth. Is he going to have the hospital shut down? Is he going to change anything?
Davis looks startled as he heads away, and Ava follows Jon with a frown that continues to grow. ]
Tax write-offs. Debts.
[ It's one thing to sell your body in terms of deeds, work, sex, that sort of thing. But putting your body parts on the black market? That's a whole other thing. And then it's...what, sold to a restaurant?
It's not really willing, she tells herself. ]
Jon, this isn't going to go well if we go down there. You know that, right?
[ Either they're going to get thrown out or someone's going to have to die. ]
[Her concern does actually get him to pause for a moment as they head toward the lifts. Jon looks over at her and while, he's desperately curious and needs to know what's down there... they don't have to risk the two of them. Probably, they shouldn't.]
You don't need to come down with me. Find the stairs and guard them. I'll come up to you again. It might be good to have a lookout.
Yeah, fat chance of me waiting here while you go down and likely get tossed out. My point is that either of us wandering in on a possibly illegal operation will likely end with guns being pointed in our direction - that's how it usually happens in my experience.
[ And she's walked in on too many of them in her life already, to be very frank about it. ]
What are you planning on doing? Just taking the information from them like you did? Because I'm pretty sure that's going to piss them off.
[Tossed out would be the nicest thing that could happen to him, really. Jon would expect to get gutted before that.]
I...
[What is he planning to do? Mostly, he just wants to know and that's the sum total of this endeavor. The lack of forward planning is likely clear on his features as he stares blankly at Ava for several seconds.]
Well, I mean, I could ask them their darkest secret and just sort of... blackmail them into keeping quiet and letting us out once we have what we need?
Or they can use the directory and find that one Jonathan Sims runs the new Magnus Institute in Duplicity. And find that he's a Dom with a couple of Subs, and wouldn't it be fun to hurt them to get to him?
[ Fucking think, Jon.
To his question, she just sighs and rolls her eyes, heading around him. She briefly pulls the long knife out of her boot to show him. ...And the pistol that's in her pants. ]
They didn't know my name until you said it. [And there might not be any cameras up here, but still. Jon huffs as he jabs the button to call the lift. It opens almost immediately. He'd like to see someone try to hurt Alessandro. That wouldn't end well for the other party. Lyall, though...] I'll be careful in what I ask them. And if they start to get agitated we can leave. I can just pretend I'm making a donation still and back out, if I need to. I can't even chop off my own fingers. I doubt they'll get very far.
[ Ava steps into the lift with him, checking for those cameras in question. There aren't any, likely to protect them from liability. If no one knows the faces or names of the people who have come in to make donations, then they can't be pulled for complaints. Can't be pulled in to court. Especially if it's all about a debt.
She wonders if they shouldn't be going to some director's office. Maybe she'll do that after.
Ava looks towards Jon. ]
Uh... Do I want to know why you're aware of these facts?
I needed an anchor to get Daisy out of the coffin. My own body seemed... good enough. I'm rather attached to it. [Hahah! Dismemberment humor.] But I couldn't cut off my finger, no matter how hard I tried. It was healed as soon as I pulled the knife out. It's why I'm fine with stabbing myself if I get... hungry. It's not going to do any lasting damage.
Someone put tape recorders outside the coffin. They helped bring me back. I think it was Martin.
[He shrugs his shoulders uncomfortably as the bell dings at the doors open on the basement level.
It's a morgue. Charming. Jon's silent as they step out and he looks to Ava. He can hear someone working behind a curtain nearby. She might be able to sense there are two people over there. Only one of them is moving.]
[ That doesn't help context at all but, frankly, this isn't the time or the place for it. She absorbs what the information tells her, at least, about tape records and Martin. And when the door opens, she reaches out to grab Jon by the shoulder before he goes too far. She just wants a moment to figure out what's down here.
The morgue is clean. Pristine, actually, but it just adds to the dichotomy of the city in general, the black and white stark in contrast. But she hears someone doing...something. It doesn't sound like an embalming machine, like the one she's used to. It sounds like the soft clank of metallic instruments, like surgery.
Her vision shifts to Auspex and she moves just a little ahead of Jon to get a good look at who all is down here. Just humans, she realizes, but one is moving...and one is not. The second person isn't even dead, not entirely, not yet--
And the blood she smells is fresh. Warm. It hits her and stirs her stomach, makes her half-ravenous. She should've eaten, she realized but she'd...just had blood before meeting Jon, and she shouldn't be this hungry, but she is and she doesn't understand it. She blinks away Auspex, turning her head away, trying not to alert Jon too badly. With a gesture of her hand, she indicates he should be quiet as they approach. ]
[He holds back, notices the... odd reaction Ava's having, and creeps after her. As he does, Jon hits the record button on his tape recorder again without even thinking about it. It's only a soft click and very quiet whir from the tape, but in the relative quiet of the morgue, it's practically deafening. The sounds of movements pause and a man's voice calls, "Tom, is that you? Five minutes, man. I've gotta close up."]
Close up what?
[Jon can't help himself. He really can't. Static crackles across the tape. A melanistic man pokes his head out from behind the curtain looking confused.
And then he freezes. "I'm closing up the donor. I've got the piece of lung we needed." He blinks. "What the... who are you?!"]
[ The tape recorder clicks on. Ava turns back to Jon, irritated. And then again, near-furious, when he actually says something.
Fucking idiot--
The guy startles and Ava is quick to cross the distance between them, getting his attention solely focused on her. ]
I need you to keep working and close him up. Don't worry about us. You don't need to be concerned.
[ All of the weight of Dominate comes down in those words, forcing him to do exactly what she wants him to. But this only makes her hungrier, makes her want to eat, and now that she's so much closer she can taste the blood in the air --
Focus, Ava. Focus. ]
You need to keep that man alive.
[ Because if he dies, there will be major, major consequences. Thankfully, he does go back to working, a bit of a glaze in his eyes, though he's still adamant (even if his tone is gentler, more placating towards Ava): "You shouldn't be here, you know. This isn't safe. I can get to you in a moment, okay?" ]
[Jon doesn't hurry after Ava, letting her take point and looking around for 'Tom.' But there's no one else down here for the moment. His tape recorder crackles when Ava presses into the surgeon with her Dominate. Jon does approach after a few seconds, trying to get around the curtain to see what exactly is going on. There's definitely a man with his chest cracked open. And there's a cooler of some sort nearby. He can only assume the lung is in here.]
Rodney Fischer. [The name comes to him as he stares at the patient.] Gambling debts. He's been donating parts of his body for years to try to pay them off, but this is the biggest, yet.
[His gaze flicks up to the surgeon then over to Ava.] Can he answer questions while he's working like that?
[ Christ. Ava glances sideways towards the man on the table, again reaching out to keep Jon from just running up into this man's space and causing yet another issue. She practically growls at him. ]
Don't. Let him close the man up, then you can ask your questions. If this flubs and Rodney dies, that's blood on our hands.
[ And she's refusing to let it come to that. ]
Give him time. You'll get to grill him.
[ "Yeah, uh, hi? I'm right here, I can hear you." ]
And you should be focused on your work right now. [ To Jon, she asks: ] You, be focused on Rodney. What else has he given? Do you know?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[ For little things, of course. Food when they order in, groceries if he's out with her, small things when she asks. But Ava doesn't eat much, steals some things, and never really asks for much besides his company. And she does have a good job, if morbid. She thinks Hawke would pay for more if she let him.
Ava's chasing her food and martini with water now, both to listen but also because that hunger is growing, not to the point of ravenous - and not specifically a hunger for blood, just for...food - and she thinks listening will keep her from being too fixated on it.
She listens, taking in the names. Has he mentioned them before? She feels like he's mentioned 'Leitner' before in passing, but never really indulged in who he was. ]
Books touched by...
[ Bad. That's really bad. ]
Sorry, sorry. One thing at a time. Go ahead, I'm listening.
cw: cannibalism, body horror
Most of Salesa's cargo finds its way around the world via ship. He's been a sailor most of his life now, or at least the life I've read about in the Statements. During one of his voyages when he was getting started out, he let the crew check his more... unusual cargo. He had the cook on the ship minding it for this particular voyage and he found that the man was taking increasingly long in his inspections. Finally, he went down to confront him when he'd taken an age and found Cook staring at an antique meat grinder. Salesa didn't know there was anything particular unusual about the meat grinder then, so he offered to sell to the man on the spot. A tidy deal, he though. Cook accepted and that was that as far as Salesa was concerned.
Almost immediately after that, Cook began serving portions of meat at the meal. Not unusual, really. A man might like to test his new 'toy.' But it kept going. Meat and meat and meat, far more than they should have had available in the stores on a voyage like this. He also noticed that Cook, himself was changed. He'd always been a meticulous man, but now there were small bloodstains on his clothes. Not something most would pay attention to on a ship, but enough that Salesa noticed. Cook had also started hiding his left arm. Always with a coat or something draped over it, even when it was too hot to warrant it. Salesa stopped eating the meat at the meals.
It went on, though. The quartermaster couldn't account for it in the stocks, so Salesa went snooping in the kitchen. He found the meat grinder there, perfect, polished, looking practically brand new. There was also a stock pot with rather suspicious-looking bones in it. He didn't have time for too close a look, though. So he came back when he knew Cook would be there...
[A pause for effect as much as to take another sip of wine.]
He broke into the kitchen, surprising the man. He found Cook's severed arm on the counter, the stump shoved deep into the meat grinder. He was grinding away with his free hand an ecstatic look on his face. It wasn't his own flesh coming through as mince, though. No. Cook was pulling a new arm out of the grinder's funnel. Slowly, painfully, blissfully.
Of course, Salesa grabbed the man, demanding answers. Cook panicked, tried to kill him, and Salesa dispatched the man. The crew threw him overboard, but Salesa kept the grinder, sold it to some Canadian who went missing a few years later. If that meat grinder or something like it found its way into the kitchens here... that might be why we've come here.
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She's not fixed on it. But she's absorbing the information, sipping her water intermittently, mouth gone dry. She doesn't touch the meat, even if she's chipping away a little at a time with the cheese board.
When he comes to the end, she's gone pale. ]
Christ.
[ Ava drinks from her glass, finishing it, stomach roiling painfully with discomfort...and the gnawing hunger, which she dislikes even more now. ]
Maybe. You think maybe things like that are collecting in a world like this... Like sewage dump in a nexus? Your story reminds me of a nagaraja I met--
[ Oh. And her food's here now. Christ.
Ava looks even worse now, because the food smells really, really good. She's ordered it mostly rare so she can try to figure out what it is, and she gives it a good look when she realizes--
Well, it's not a sure thing. But she's pretty sure she knows that smell now. And the smell of the 'gravy' that's being poured. The waiter starts to leave. ]
Hey, uh, sorry-- Sorry. I don't get to know what the special is?
[ The waiter smiles. "It's our specialty for a reason! And it's not something we can just tell people--" ]
Oh, come on. [ She's staring right at him now, eyes on his. ] Tell me what it is.
[ He stops. Stares. He can't break away. "It's...rare meat. Very rare. Sourced from donors!" Ava's about to start literally digging into his mind if he doesn't give her a straight answer. Does he even know? ]
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[It's all Jon manages to get out the server steps in with Ava's food. It does smell delicious. But after recounting Salesa's tale, that just makes the Archivist all the more suspicious. And as Ava uses her own brand of compelling. Jon's tape recorder clicks itself back on. Apparently this is important.]
What type of donors?
[The tape recorder hisses with static.
"Consensual. Entirely consensual donors. I can assure you we're not that sort of canteen."
Cannibals. These people just straight cannibals.]
Where are they, your willing donors?
[The man is struggling now under the weight of both Ava's Dominate and Jon's compelling power. "The-the... I don't know? I think the hospital? The charity shops?"]
Right.
[He's a little drunk, but that doesn't matter.]
Ava, we're going to hospital. Now.
[The server looks alarmed. "But your food!"]
Eat it yourself.
[He pulls out his wallet and puts down several hundred dollars. He'd sort of been planning to use that for Integra's 'signing bonus,' but here they are. He can get more.]
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Her stomach churns painfully. Ava doesn't know how she keeps herself from throwing up, but she realizes she knew exactly what cooked human flesh smelled like long before this, and the memory is so visceral that her grip on the table tightens almost to the point of snapping it beneath the pressure of her hands. It's a good thing that Jon jumps in, because Ava's agitation skyrockets, and she is terribly close to grabbing the waiter and pulling him into the room, and that won't end well for anyone.
...Or maybe it wasn't great that Jon jumped in, because he's tipsy and throwing money on the table, saying they're going to head out, and...
This really isn't going to go well. Ava stands after Jon leaves the room and she follows him out the door, not once mentioning how she's still hungry. Being in the hospital may or may not make things better on that end. ]
No one's going to give us this information, Jon. It's probably privacy protected. And we really can't be compelling hospital staff on their shift.
[ Is that stopping her from following him? No.
Is it stopping her from looking for a side door? Not at all. ]
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Why not? We need to know why these people are doing this. What's making them 'willing' donors.
[There's his Statement. That's what he wants. That's why the Beholding sent him to that restaurant. The nearest hospital isn't difficult to find. Jon strides with surety, some of the fear burned out of him for the moment. The drink is helping with that, but it's more than that. The Archivist Knows this is what he needs to do. With as little certainty as there is in his life, it's hard not to grasp it and cling tight when it comes.]
We need to find out.
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[ And they still don't know what'll happen if they're not out of here by then. Die? Suffer some other horrible end? She'd like to not be caught here if she can help it.
Ava's wandering after him, and she does see a side door that seems to go into the back of the hospital, which seems...dark? But it's evening, so maybe they're down to smaller staff? It's hard to tell, and she gets the door for Jon as they head in. There are only a few people in the waiting room and things seem quiet enough. Not unheard of, as it might not be the only hospital in the city. The man at the front desk asks if they're there to check in, and if someone's injured.
This isn't going to go well. ]
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I'm here to make a donation. [Jon's eyes are fixed on the man who blinks in surprise as they approach.
"Oh! Um... well, the finance department is closed this late, but if you come back-"]
Not a financial contribution. Something else.
["Something... else?" His smile is about as fake as it's possible to be. "You'll need to be specific."]
A few excess pounds. What would you be able to tell me about that, Davis?
[There's a soft hiss from the tape recorder.
"Not... much? I mean, I don't work downstairs. I just know that people donate their bodies for tax write-offs and to pay debts. You'd need to head to the basement." He pauses, an expression of confusion crossing his face. "W-wait. Why did I...?"]
Come on, Ava. That's all we needed, Davis. Thank you. Why don't you get a coffee? It's late isn't it? You must need a little pick-me-up by now.
[Davis opens his mouth, then closes it a few times, backing away from the desk and nodding mutely before walking off.]
Basement...
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Davis looks startled as he heads away, and Ava follows Jon with a frown that continues to grow. ]
Tax write-offs. Debts.
[ It's one thing to sell your body in terms of deeds, work, sex, that sort of thing. But putting your body parts on the black market? That's a whole other thing. And then it's...what, sold to a restaurant?
It's not really willing, she tells herself. ]
Jon, this isn't going to go well if we go down there. You know that, right?
[ Either they're going to get thrown out or someone's going to have to die. ]
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You don't need to come down with me. Find the stairs and guard them. I'll come up to you again. It might be good to have a lookout.
[And safer for Ava... even if she is dead.]
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[ And she's walked in on too many of them in her life already, to be very frank about it. ]
What are you planning on doing? Just taking the information from them like you did? Because I'm pretty sure that's going to piss them off.
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I...
[What is he planning to do? Mostly, he just wants to know and that's the sum total of this endeavor. The lack of forward planning is likely clear on his features as he stares blankly at Ava for several seconds.]
Well, I mean, I could ask them their darkest secret and just sort of... blackmail them into keeping quiet and letting us out once we have what we need?
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[ Getting gutted is still kind of high on the list, unfortunately, but the more likely outcome is a little bit less than that. Maybe? Maybe. ]
You don't think blackmailing them won't piss them off enough to come find you in Duplicity? I'm just asking that you slow down and think, okay?
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[These are all perfectly sensible things to think about, but they're delaying what he wants, which is to be downstairs and looking around.
As for the cameras... he really wishes he had Elias' powers at the moment.]
I don't suppose you could sort of just break any cameras?
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[ Fucking think, Jon.
To his question, she just sighs and rolls her eyes, heading around him. She briefly pulls the long knife out of her boot to show him. ...And the pistol that's in her pants. ]
Yeah, I can. So let's go.
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[This is, surely, comforting information.]
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She wonders if they shouldn't be going to some director's office. Maybe she'll do that after.
Ava looks towards Jon. ]
Uh... Do I want to know why you're aware of these facts?
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I needed an anchor to get Daisy out of the coffin. My own body seemed... good enough. I'm rather attached to it. [Hahah! Dismemberment humor.] But I couldn't cut off my finger, no matter how hard I tried. It was healed as soon as I pulled the knife out. It's why I'm fine with stabbing myself if I get... hungry. It's not going to do any lasting damage.
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It doesn't matter if there's no lasting damage, it still hurts like shit.
[ And considering she has been stabbed multiple times? Yeah, she knows that personally. ]
An anchor is supposed to be a part of your body? You weren't attached to anything else in the world?
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[He shrugs his shoulders uncomfortably as the bell dings at the doors open on the basement level.
It's a morgue. Charming. Jon's silent as they step out and he looks to Ava. He can hear someone working behind a curtain nearby. She might be able to sense there are two people over there. Only one of them is moving.]
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The morgue is clean. Pristine, actually, but it just adds to the dichotomy of the city in general, the black and white stark in contrast. But she hears someone doing...something. It doesn't sound like an embalming machine, like the one she's used to. It sounds like the soft clank of metallic instruments, like surgery.
Her vision shifts to Auspex and she moves just a little ahead of Jon to get a good look at who all is down here. Just humans, she realizes, but one is moving...and one is not. The second person isn't even dead, not entirely, not yet--
And the blood she smells is fresh. Warm. It hits her and stirs her stomach, makes her half-ravenous. She should've eaten, she realized but she'd...just had blood before meeting Jon, and she shouldn't be this hungry, but she is and she doesn't understand it. She blinks away Auspex, turning her head away, trying not to alert Jon too badly. With a gesture of her hand, she indicates he should be quiet as they approach. ]
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Close up what?
[Jon can't help himself. He really can't. Static crackles across the tape. A melanistic man pokes his head out from behind the curtain looking confused.
And then he freezes. "I'm closing up the donor. I've got the piece of lung we needed." He blinks. "What the... who are you?!"]
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Fucking idiot--
The guy startles and Ava is quick to cross the distance between them, getting his attention solely focused on her. ]
I need you to keep working and close him up. Don't worry about us. You don't need to be concerned.
[ All of the weight of Dominate comes down in those words, forcing him to do exactly what she wants him to. But this only makes her hungrier, makes her want to eat, and now that she's so much closer she can taste the blood in the air --
Focus, Ava. Focus. ]
You need to keep that man alive.
[ Because if he dies, there will be major, major consequences. Thankfully, he does go back to working, a bit of a glaze in his eyes, though he's still adamant (even if his tone is gentler, more placating towards Ava): "You shouldn't be here, you know. This isn't safe. I can get to you in a moment, okay?" ]
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Rodney Fischer. [The name comes to him as he stares at the patient.] Gambling debts. He's been donating parts of his body for years to try to pay them off, but this is the biggest, yet.
[His gaze flicks up to the surgeon then over to Ava.] Can he answer questions while he's working like that?
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Don't. Let him close the man up, then you can ask your questions. If this flubs and Rodney dies, that's blood on our hands.
[ And she's refusing to let it come to that. ]
Give him time. You'll get to grill him.
[ "Yeah, uh, hi? I'm right here, I can hear you." ]
And you should be focused on your work right now. [ To Jon, she asks: ] You, be focused on Rodney. What else has he given? Do you know?
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cw: vomiting blood
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2/3 i lied
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un: thearchivist; text
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