From Water to War

[Riley Coleson]

Lately, Riley had found himself wandering more and more. The more time he spent outside the cramped walls of the Furrina camps, the more eager he was to get out the moment the sun rose. Heck, sometimes he even went out earlier. And he more often than not spent the entire day out and didn't return until nightfall - or later. This was one of those days. He was in no rush to get back home. Though, for the most part, it was because his tracking mission had taken longer than he'd expected and night had quickly approached.

Wandering around the streets in the middle of the night was asking to be killed - whether it was by one of the Doomed or because someone wanted to pick a fight. Riley knew how to fight, sure, but that didn't mean he was Superman.

Opening the door to a bar, Riley stepped inside, his blue-green eyes scanning his surroundings. The place was fairly dead, which honestly didn't surprise him overly much. It was late and people probably had enough sense in their bones to know that staying out far too late was stupid.

Riley took a seat in the corner, leaning his back against the chair as he folded his arms over his chest. He wasn't her to drink, but merely looking for something to pass the time with, even if that meant watching the last remnants of the drunkards make huge fools out of themselves. Ah well, at least it was more entertainment than walking through the dark streets with Doomed lurking at every corner.

[Layla G. Harlow]

If there was a time that Layla enjoyed more than when she could get a good night's rest, it was closing time at the bar. After several hours of constant moving, getting splashed with beer and having drunk assholes roughing her up, she was delighted when she could put up the closed sign. There of course were always those who lingered and lounged about within the last hour or so while she was bussing tables and taking care of all the empties, but typically they were too far gone to bother her.

The cut off hour started and she began handing out waters to those who remained seated at the bar. After they were taken care of, she took a rag and started clearing the vacant tables. She was humming a tune in her head, waving her hips around to it while she bent over to wipe away the spilled alcohol.

As she was bent over, one of the guys stood up, snickering away and upon passing her, smacked her aass. He leaned in close and she could smell the foul stench of his breath brush against her ear as he grunted. "Want to be shown a good time, honey. Just come on home with me," he laughed loud and she cringed at the proximity of his booming voice.

"Cool it buddy, go drink your water. We don't want you getting eaten by a Doomed do we?" She said as calmly as she could with him still towering over her.

"Listen here you little bitch," he growled at her and she froze.

[Riley Coleson]

Normally, Riley didn't care much for what other people did with their time. However, when he saw that drunkard clearly taking advantage of the bartender - who looked like she wasn't old enough to work at this kind of place, he didn't enjoy it. Mostly because it could have been his sister in that kind of situation. The two about them looked as if they were about the same age too - give or take.

Shaking his head, Riley pushed himself out of his seat. He didn't look at the pair as he moved and instead, he positioned himself in front of the bar, near the two of them. "If you wouldn't mind let the girl go so the rest of us can do what we came here for," he drawled and tapped his fingertip against the bar disk. He wasn't here to buy anything, but it was a good excuse as any.

Then, he turned his head over his shoulder and looked at the man. "I'm sure there's plenty of underage girls you can take advantage of outside that doesn't leave as many witnesses." He shrugged at that and his face showed no signs of emotions. Not even pity or worry. In fact, he didn't really care about the girl or the situation, but these people could at the very least show enough self control to keep these urges to themselves and not display them for the rest of the world to see.

Did it look like Riley honestly cared to watch someone go about their basic human instincts? No. No he really didn't.

[Layla G. Harlow]

Layla was mustering up her back bone, which had been buried deep as she had been forced to deal with people like this all day. Most of the time she had a way of calming them down, getting them to back off, but she was exhausted and she was pissed off and sick and tired of everyone's shit. The way he pressed against her made her half tempted to just elbow him in the groin and hope that he fell hard enough to smack his head against a nearby table and bleed out. Her body was tensed and he inched his hand up her leg, making her fists close.

Up until he spoke, Layla hadn't even noticed the man that was now leaning up against the bar like he expected her to just wait on him beck and call. What a fucking tool. Of course he was posing as a distraction from her, but it didn't make her any less bitter. Maybe it was just her general attitude that made her annoyed by him, but whatever it was, she wasn't all that appreciative of his butting in. She was a bartender, young, sure, but she was more than capable of beating some dumb ass drunk without any help. Whatever his reasons were for the 'help' he was offering, she didn't bother considering.

However, his distraction did move the bigger guy out from behind her and staggering towards him. Layla then stuck her foot out and tripped him, which caused him to do exactly what she'd thought about before, except not quite as gruesome. He smacked his head on a barstool and was a little less than pleased, but not knocked out when he looked back up at her, "What the fuck?" Layla knelt down in front of him and pinched the bridge of his broken nose, causing him to yelp.

"If you ever fucking touch me like that again, I will bust a beer bottle on this bar top and stab you in that fat fucking face of yours. Got it?" He nodded and she stood up, brushing her hair back over her shoulder. Her eyes flicked to what's his face at the bar, "What can I get for you, sir?" She practically spat the last word at him and stepped around the man still dazed on the floor before walking around the other end of the bar to her rightful place. "We're about to close, what can I get you?" She said a little less bitingly this time and steadied herself against the counter.

[Riley Coleson]

Riley watched the display in front him with the same amount of apathy as before. He had to admit that the girl took great care of herself - even if it was only because he'd managed to distract the guy for her, but he was in no mood to claim any sorts of pride. In fact, he didn't really care all that much. It wasn't like he'd been trying to help her out. If he had, he would have tried doing more than just talk to the other guy, after all.

Turning his back against the bar, Riley propped it arms up on top of it and watched the girl trip the guy with mild interest. He had a feeling this girl would either make a wonderful Furrina or get herself killed for having too big of an mouth. Now that he saw her in action, he realized that she was absolutely nothing like his sister. His sister was kind, sweet and gentle. This girl was... Anything save for that. She was foul and wicked and clearly thought too highly of herself. And wow, did she overreact.

He followed the girl with his eyes as she rounded the bar once she was done with the poor sucker on the floor. When she first asked, Riley remained quiet, simply looking at her with a wry smile. When she asked again, sounding less hostile this time, he nodded. "That's much better. I doubt your boss would be awfully pleased if he heard how you treat his customers. That guy-" he nodded towards the guy on the floor. "-clearly deserved it. But me? I've done nothing wrong... Yet." He offered her his most winning smile at that, but it didn't reach his eyes. His smiles usually didn't. They were rarely genuine.

"As for what I want... I lost my appetite, so don't sweat it, Sweetheart. I'm sure you have nails to polish," he shrugged and pushed himself away from the bar.

[Layla G. Harlow]

Layla had been calm for about 3 seconds before her irritability spiked again at the stranger in front of her. Honestly she hadn't been the most polite, she'd offer that, but his smile made her sick and she wanted to wipe it off his smug face. Who even was this guy? Just another sleazy bar attendee or something worse? Her thoughts drifted to her brother and she could see the similarities in the way they both smiled. So at ease in a world that was trashed with awful people and a terrible illness. The way he hadn't even made a move to 'protect' her from the guy that had just now gotten to his feet and was leaving. Not that Layla wanted protecting, but most decent human beings at least offered. Especially when they were men that were bigger than her.

Something else about him made her uncomfortable, but she couldn't let him see it. She couldn't show weakness because then she'd end up with a knife to her throat just so he could watch her bleed.

Layla's jaw set and her eyes stayed on his. She wasn't going to be afraid of some piece of trash like this. And she wasn't going to take him being an asshole because as Lux had said before, customers didn't have a right to harass his employees. Could she use that though? Was it allowed in this situation when she'd first been so impolite to him? Most people may have understood, but he seemed to just like using it to goad her into what? Doing the same thing she'd just done to him? The site of him staring up at her wide-eyed with a busted nose did seem appealing. She wanted to spit at him, to really get him going, but she had to keep a level head.

"Yes because clearly that's all girls do in their free time, right?" She rolled her eyes and with a deep breath, went back to doing her job, rinsing out the glasses with the water hose. Oh so suddenly, she must have missed the glass because the water sprayed up and across the bar in his direction, whether she hit him or not, she hadn't paid much attention, but if it kept him away from her, she didn't much care. If she did get him...he'd probably look like a wet cat.

And would probably be as pissed as one.

[Riley Coleson]

"In the thousands of years humans have walked on earth, I don't think any of them have discovered how a female's mind work, so don't think I'm about to start." The only female he could truly say he understood, was his sister, but that was from spending so much time with and around her. After a while, you sort of learned to pick up on all the secret cues, but that didn't mean he understood women in general. Riley could feel the water hit the back of his head and immediately, he raised his hand to rub it away and a soft chuckle escaped his lips.

"Now, that's just childish," he said and shrugged his shoulders. Honestly, it was such an pathetic attempt he couldn't even be mad. He didn't find it funny either, though. Most of the time, Riley was just simply indifferent.

He looked at the girl over his shoulder again and sighed. "I'll be sure to tell the lads that they won't find any women to enjoy their time with here. There's only little girls throwing temper tantrums when they hear something they don't like." He knew he was probably pushing her buttons, but that would only further prove his point, no? If she wanted to make an example, she was going about the whole thing wrong. She was only making herself out to be a teenage girl with a temper problem.

And in this kind of world, wearing your emotions on the outside would end up getting you killed. His mother had been a good example of that. Stepping towards the door, Riley looked over the bar again, taking in the small details of the place, remembering it. "Sorry for wasting your time, girlie," he said as he offered her a smirk.

[Layla G. Harlow]

Layla rolled her eyes. First of all, her mentality didn't suit what he probably expected a typical woman's would be. Second of all, what kind of man ever did try to understand a woman? They were all different, none of them thought the exact same way, so of course if you knew how one woman thought, you wouldn't know what the next would. It was the same for men. At least, she hoped it was. If every man thought the same way that her brother did...she never wanted to know another man's thought for the rest of her life. "And your comment was misogynistic. But hey, who am I to judge, right?"

He hadn't reacted in the way that she had expected. She'd been hoping for worse, but his reaction just irked her further. At the same time it made her blood run cold. His whole demeanor reminded her of someone that she had been running from since he was exiled from their community. The same indifference, but she imagined there was a sneaky dangerous vibe beneath it. He was probably a cold-hearted killer just like Lucian. Her stomach twisted while she tried to remain as calm and composed as he was. She had enough experience with someone like him to know how to gauge his reactions and whether he would lunge at her or not.

This man was still facing away from her, but that didn't make her feel any more safe. The bar was practically empty now, everyone must have sensed the tension between them and left. Layla was sure that Lux and Mr. Viera were out. Or perhaps they just hadn't heard anything. Either way, she didn't feel comfortable in an empty bar with someone so much like her brother. Her hand instinctively went up to touch the scar on her neck. She bit her lip and narrowed her eyes at him as he turned back.

"I'm sure," She answered curtly. Layla was still lost in her own world to really take in anything he'd said about telling other men to steer clear of this place. She didn't care if he did. The last thing she wanted was someone prick thinking he could take advantage of her because she was a woman. Weak. "Try not to let the door hit you in the ass on the way out," She added before she turned back to cleaning.

Cleaning would help her forget. Forget him. Forget Luc. Everything.

[Riley Coleson]

Pointing his finger at her repeatedly, Riley chuckled. "See, now you're starting to get it. Nice job." At least she had enough fire to bite back. He supposed he could appreciate that, even if she was childish. She seemed to take everything that happened personally. The guy that had tried his moves on her likely didn't do so because of what she looked like, but because she made herself too available. Not that she wasn't pretty, of course, because she was, but he suspected that had little to do with anything.

Again, Riley chuckled. "Hey," he began, looking at her once more. "If it makes you feel any better," he paused, considering. "We could talk. You can tell me all about how vile I already know I am." He couldn't help but grin at that and this time, it reached his eyes. Perhaps not in the way one would expect. He didn't find it funny, but in a way, it was more so sad. He was vile - always had been. His entire life he had known there was something seriously wrong about him.

Reaching for the door handle, Riley tried opening the door, only to find it heavier than what he remembered it had been before. He used his shoulder to push it far enough to get a glimpse outside and well... He couldn't really see much besides flying sand before the door slammed shut on him again. A sandstorm. Wonderful. "Well, shit," he muttered under his breath. What now? What about his sister? He'd never let her be alone for an entire night before. At least not without being close by. Just in case.

"Is there a back door or something that's more sheltered from the sandstorm?" he asked as he turned around, but had already started moving forward, looking around. Although he already knew going outside was suicide. But he couldn't just sit here and do nothing.

[Layla G. Harlow]

"Oh gee thanks, I was really looking for your approval. Do I get a cookie?" Layla rolled her eyes again. She was not amused by his presence. She very much was ready for him to just get the hell out so that she never had to put up with his fucking attitude ever again. She dealt with enough guys for whatever reason messing with her. Pretty face, nice body, easily pissed off, she didn't care what the reason was. The last thing she wanted was some stranger from God knew where messing with her too. Especially when the bar was more or less closed and she didn't have to serve him shit.

Layla lifted her eyes to look up at him and snorted, "And what the fuck makes you think I'd want to talk to you period. Let alone about how much of a prick you are." Honestly it wasn't that she didn't want to tell him how horrible she thought he was. It was more that she just didn't want to talk to him period. It was only going to make her more sick and make the nightmares worse later if she continued getting reminded of her vile brother. The sadistic sociopath that shared the same blood as her and her little sister.

When he went to leave, she sighed in relief, but it was soon cut short and she paled. A sandstorm. A nasty one at that. "Fuck," She muttered because she knew he wouldn't be leaving and neither would she. Cora was at their home which was well enough hidden away that she didn't think that anyone would mess with her. The City wasn't as dangerous as being out on the street. Still, Cora was only fourteen years old, she was skilled enough to make food and had been home alone all day, but Layla hated spending any amount of time away from her. Especially with Lucian lurking, trying to find them, which she knew he was.

"No. There isn't. We're fucking stuck here," She answered with a frown and slammed a glass down on the counter, harder than she meant to, but not hard enough to break it. The last thing she wanted was being stuck in this place with him and without anyone else that she actually trusted. What were they going to do besides potentially kill each other?

[Riley Coleson]

"Sorry, sweet pie. Don't have any on me," he shrugged apologetically. He didn't really care one way or another. At least this beat talking to some of those Furrina people - not that this girl was much amusement, save for him enjoying her childish behavior and what could best be described as a temper tantrum because things didn't work out just the way she wanted them to. But hey, he wasn't picky.

Chuckling softly, Riley shook his head. "Aww, how cute. But also very cliche. Come up with some better material, please." Raising his hands in mock defense, Riley pursed his lips, trying to keep the laughter from bubbling up again. "Calm down, Spitfire. I wanna get out of her as badly as you want me to leave. Don't worry. Your charming personality isn't that enthralling I'm afraid, but I suspect that's exactly what you want, huh? Tryna keep yourself by pushing everyone away. I can respect that." The thing was though, that everyone had their demons they needed to deal with and Riley couldn't shake the feeling that this girl thought she was the only one with issues.

He didn't bother looking at her and instead, continued searching for a way out. It wasn't that he didn't believe her or anything, but he was... Desperate. He'd never admit that, of course, but he had a very good reason. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath once he'd finally given up. Walking back towards the door, he slid down along the wall and plumped down onto the floor. Propping his elbows up against his knees, Riley rubbed his temples and sighed.

[Layla G. Harlow]

His nicknames were growing tiring and she really wanted to rip his tongue out to keep him from using anymore. Sweet pie, spitfire, sweetheart. She could have stabbed him in the face by now if she wasn't worried about discarding the body, especially in the stupid sandstorm that left them stranded. He was pushing every button she had, goading her into reacting more and more. She was not the calm type. She had been when she was younger, and she was when she was with Cora, but on her own, she was reckless and irrationally dramatic. She knew it, and she didn't much care. Layla was capable of taking care of herself, no matter how much trouble she could be put in.

"I highly fucking doubt that. And you don't know dick about me so fuck off," She replied, her composure slipping more and more. If there was anything that made her lose her grip, it was her brother and people like her brother. He was toying with her, and although he seemed as frantic about leaving as she did, he was still dangerous and in some way terrifying. What if he took out being stuck here with her on her? Luc was feral, animalistic. If he was stuck in a closed up space for too long, he acted out violently. This bar had more than enough weapons for her, but that also meant they could just as easily be used by him.

When he slumped down against the wall away from her, she pushed herself up onto the countertop and pulled her knees up against her. Watching him, waiting for him to go crazy. All she'd have to do is pull the pocket knife that she had strapped in a holster on her leg. She always had one close, just in case she had a foul run-in with Lucian or a Doomed. Layla had grown up with a sociopathic monster and along the way had been taught by him how to expect the outcome of any situation and be ready for it.

He was constantly testing her, practically aiming to kill her every time, and she had never said a word to anyone all the while. If he'd killed her, she at least wouldn't have had to grow up with him. But when he was exiled, she knew she never wanted to be subjected to his torturing ways again. Layla took a deep breath and chewed on her lower lip. This was a fucked situation.

[Riley Coleson]

"You're cute when you're mad," he teased. She actually kind of was. Although she probably was cute no matter what mood she was in - if you were into that kind of thing, anyways. He wondered briefly how young she was, but quickly shook the thought away. She was probably far too young. Not that he would have done much about it one way or another, but even Riley had to admit that this was far better than most of the conversations he'd had with the other Furrina guys.

Riley could feel her eyes on him and issued a low, but audible sigh. "You can stop staring at me," he began, lifting his gaze to meet hers, his blue-green eyes calm, but distant. "I'm not going to do anything. You're not worth it." He closed his eyes and leaned the back of his head against the wall. God, out of all the places he could have gotten cooped up... He had to get cooped up with a distrustful little girl. Great.

Besides, hurting her would only mean that there would be a lot to clean up and that'd only mean it'd take him longer to get back home to his sister and she was and would always be his number one priority. Lifting his hand, Riley rubbed his eyes and stifled a yawn. Boy, did hope this was the kind of storm that came quickly and went just as fast... Somehow, he seriously doubted it though. The streets would probably be covered in sand, making it hard to traverse.

[Layla G. Harlow]

"Keep your shit up and I'll be fucking adorable," She said only half-heartedly snarky. She was worrying. Cora had no way of coming to get her if there was any problems. There were no phones. No way of communication. Her fourteen year old sister was shoved away in some janky hole of a place and Lucian was psychotic enough to go out in this to look for her. Maybe he'd get killed that way. Or maybe if it died down enough, he'd already be closer to Cora than she was and he'd do something before Layla could reach her. God there were so many things that went through her mind, that she hardly noticed that she was in fact staring.

His sigh snapped her out of her daze and she quickly looked away, "Sorry, didn't realize I was." She ran her hand through her hair and realized she was shaky. There had to be some way to calm her nerves. She was at a bar for Christ's sake. She'd just have to remember to write down all that she had consumed and be sure to pay for it so that she didn't end up getting fired. With that thought fresh in her head, she swung her legs around and turned her back to him, facing the wall of alcohol.

She'd need something strong. Something that could numb her. No longer was she worried about the impending threat that was sitting across the bar, for she figured if he was going to hurt her, he easily could have tried by now. And she would be sure not to get too drunk so that she'd have to stumble back home to Cora. No, she just needed to take the edge off. With that, she grabbed a bottle of tequila and a shot glass and poured herself one. Tipping it back, she shuddered and licked her lower lip. Layla settled herself back up on the bar, bottle in hand and held it out, "You want something?"

[Riley Coleson]

"I'm sure," he replied simply. Man, she never cut the act out, did she? She was only furthering the image of acting like an angry teenager having no real issues and thus creating more just for the sake of drama. Not that it was any of his god damn business. Which admittedly, probably wasn't such a bad thing, now that he thought about it. He had his own problem to deal with.

He lifted his gaze enough to watch the girl pour herself a shot and throw it back. He couldn't help but to wrinkle his nose. "No, thank you." After all, he wanted to keep his head clear in case the storm subsided. He wanted to be ready to get on the move as quickly as possible and well, alcohol hardly did that for him, now did it. No, it made your mind slow and it made you slow. 

He pointed at his head. "Prefer keeping my mind clear," he explained - although he wasn't entirely sure why he bothered. He didn't owe her anything. He sure as hell didn't owe her an explanation. She probably didn't care for one either. Ah well. "Besides, I think you can be wasted enough for the both of us." God, she was probably even worse drunk. As long as she didn't end up being that clingy, needy kind of drunk and kept her distance...