[Collab post between YoshiSkittlez and Mach2] -------------------------- One Year Ago [i]Deon had once again entered the ring with a new-found power ripping through him. The gathered crowd erupted into a roar of applause and cheers, but not for Deon…for his competitor. Stepping into the ring, Deon stared down his competition and realized immediately just why the man in the hat had stressed wanting to help him. The [url=http://www.dizimizi.com/resimler/1228000/matthew-willig-17.jpg]man[/url] was a true behemoth, nearly twice the size as Deon in every aspect of the word, and obviously a crowd favorite. After cracking his neck, Deon shot a sideways glance to his new found friend, and the two exchanged a simple nod, a truly dark smile spreading across Deon’s face in the process before squaring off his opponent once more. The bell sounded, and the fight began. The behemoth threw the first punch, landing a left hook square in his jaw forcing Deon’s head to follow the motion of the punch, a mixture of sweat and blood spraying from his loosened lips. The man did not back down then, as he used the momentum to his advantage and threw a right hook to the other side of Deon’s face as he went left, the drastic change in direction sending Deon to the floor in a spiral. Deon pushed himself to his hands and knees, using his hand to wipe and check for blood coming from his nose, but the behemoth charged him once more, grabbing him under the legs with one python of an arm, and under his neck with the other. He raised Deon over his head and charged towards the iron bars that enclosed the area, smashing Deon hard against it and letting him fall the good seven feet to the ground in a crumpled heap. Again, the man refused to let up as he ran up to Deon and pummeled his steel-toed boot into his ribcage over and over again before he turned his back and pumped up the crowd, sure that the fight was now over. Had this been a normal fight, it would have been over, but the new-found drug pushing through Deon’s blood had Deon jumping back to his feet, brushing himself off as if the beating he had just received was nothing more than a trip and fall. The behemoth turned, his expression obviously confused at the display of his opponent. Deon just smiled, ignoring the dripping blood coming from his lip and nose and started stretching his arms casually, like he was just warming up. “Don’t you fuck with me kid, fight me.” The man shouted, pointing a sausage finger at Deon. Deon just scoffed and then proceeded to stretch out his legs, one at a time and then rolled his shoulders, throwing a few practice air punches. The man snarled in anger and rushed Deon, throwing another punch that held enough power to end anyone’s career, but Deon was quick. He caught the ban in the middle of his arm, driving his elbow down into the center while using his other hand to grab onto the man’s wrist and turned it in an unnatural direction, the combined move undoubtedly breaking the man’s arm at the elbow. The man fell to the ground in pain, clutching onto his arm as if his life had depended on it. It was now Deon’s turn. A dark smile spread across his face once more, and proceeded to beat the man senseless on the ground…even after he started screaming for mercy.[/i] -------------------------- Deon’s eyes snapped open. A small amount of sweat had accumulated to his forehead which he raised his hand to and wiped away immediately. He rolled over onto his side, finding a naked woman on his bed looking to have also passed out sometime during the sex. He moved closer to her, so that his own naked body pressed closely to her backside and wrapped his arm around her waist, his hand lazily tracing lines across her stomach. Propped up on his elbow, he lowered his head to plant soft kisses along her shoulder and up to her neck, inhaling her sweet scent. He remembered now, the girl that had come to ask him for Lucid…and the only girl that had ever seemed…hesitant toward his advances. Vander awoke slowly to a world of pain. The sharp ache that had presented itself sometime during her attempt at sex had worsened while she’d been unconscious. A quiet whimper escaped her, and she instinctively curled in around her aching stomach. It took a series of short and gasping breaths before she began to become aware of anything besides the agonizing sensation around her abdomen. Finally, she realized she wasn’t alone in the bed. Vander blinked her eyes open, dimly aware of someone else’s skin pressed up against her own, of someone else’s arm around her waist, and of someone else’s lips along the bones of her neck and shoulders. She twisted quickly to see Deon’s face… …and immediately scrambled out of his grip and off the bed, giving a gasp of pain at the sudden motion. The girl grabbed her oversized jacket from the floor, wrapping it self-consciously around herself. [i]Did I honestly pass out?[/i] She stared, wide-eyed, at Deon. Unable to stand, but refusing to sit back down on the bed, she took a step back to lean most of her weight against the wall. “I’m sorry,” she muttered. “I…guess I passed out. I’m just…I really need Lucid soon.” Deon watched her bolt from him with a bit of a chuckle coming from his throat. He took a moment to stretch his sore muscles, a jab of pain to a few areas in his chest and ribs reminding him of the very reason why he was here in the bedroom in the first place and not out in the bar fighting. He rubbed his hand over his eyes tiredly and sat up, fishing for his boxers and put them back on, followed by his pants. The other girls that had been in the room earlier were all but gone, leaving just the two of them alone. After getting up and off of the bed, Deon slipped on an old faded green t-shirt and walked to the sink, cupping his hands and splashed his face and half shaved head with the cool water before turning back to the girl. "What did you say your name was again?" He asked running his fingers through what little hair he had on the top of his head, the water making select strands stick together in an almost mohawk type style. She watched him warily, reaching down to the floor to grab her clothes while he walked to the sink. Her head spun as she straightened up again, forcing her to either sit back down on the edge of the bed or risk passing out a second time. She chose the former. "Vander. My name's Vander," she answered as she began to dress, pulling on her underwear and jeans with obvious effort. Every movement was hurting, and the pain showed in her face. Her jacket already on, she opted to stuff her shirt into it's pocket rather than undress again. Deon looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, examining her face more so than her body for the first time since meeting her. "Yeah, yeah I think I remember you now. The girl that had the hots for that Jamison boy right?" He snickered and went to the bedside, lending her a hand to help her up seeing the great effort a seamless task of getting dressed was for her. "Didn't I get you some Lucid then? I honestly can't remember anything much past his daddy coming to pull him out of that fight with all of his body guards." She accepted his help reluctantly, truly doubting her ability to stand up again on her own. Even as she stood, another wave of lightheadedness hit her. She blinked hard, steadying herself, before answering. "Yeah...you got me Lucid yesterday. It should have lasted at least until tomorrow. But someone...I got back to my apartment and it was gone," she said, trying to explain in words that grew more rushed and mumbled as she spoke. "And I really need some more, soon. You said you'd get me some if..." she trailed off, nodding awkwardly to the bed where they had both passed out moments earlier. He nodded, and after making sure she'd be fine on her feet he let go of her bony hand. "Yeah yeah I know what I said." He mumbled and started searching the room for something. It was a wonder he could ever find anything in this place to begin with, what with all the assorted drugs, alcohol and sex toys spread all over. Even the women from before had left a good majority of their clothing behind, scattered across the area like you would expect a teenagers bedroom to be. Finally finding what he was looking for on the counter behind an array of empty glass bottles, Deon plugged the small black device into his ear and waited. He waited for what seemed like a good five minutes before he took the device out of his ear, looking somewhat perplexed. "No answer..." He said softly, more to himself than to her. His eyes then darted to the opposite counter where other pills were stored, but these ones were marked in what looked like prescription bottles rather than see-through plastic baggies like the other drugs were. He went to the prescription drugs and fumbled through a few of them before selecting one and popped the lid open, and shook a few green and purple pills into his hand. He then popped them into his mouth and swallowed hard without the aid of water and capped the bottle, placing it back onto the counter. Vander watched in complete confusion as he popped the handful of pills. No answer? The thought sent a knot of worry through her stomach, intense enough to add to the omnipresent ache already there. "What do you mean, no answer?" she started to ask quietly. "Just...give me a minute and...ACK-" Deon's hands shot to his side where his ribs had been cracked, a series of pained noises coming from him as he stumbled over to the couch and fell down onto it, holding himself as the pain inside of him continued to burn until it became a dull throb. Minutes passed, and Deon seemed to have gained control of himself once more. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he got back off of the couch and walked to Vander, no longer a limp in his step like before...almost as if he didn't have a single injury at all anymore. "Okay, I need to go by my guy's place and see whats up. You comin or what?" She stared, blinking in confusion and wondering if her eyes were playing tricks on her. Deon had definitely been limping before. She remembered him limping. At his question, whether she was coming, it took an enormous effort for her to force herself to nod. It felt as though she had already walked halfway across a country to try to get her drugs. The drugs that should have been waiting for her in her apartment. "Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," she muttered. After a brief pause, she couldn't help but inquire about the pills he had swallowed. "What were those? Painkillers?" Her nod was all he needed before he started walking, exiting the room and shutting the door behind Vander as she exited behind him. "Hm?" He turned his head towards her as they walked, noticing that her frail condition was keeping her at a much slower walking pace and frowned. If she was going to walk like this the whole way there, his entire night was ruined. No, no they would take his bike to the warehouse. His mind coming back to her question, he only grinned. "Something like that, yeah." He mused, keeping it at that. Once outside, he rounded the corner of the building and stopped at a motercycle that was obviously built for one, but Deon had no doubt that Vander could fit in on the back with how damn thin she was. He stradled the bike and gunned it to life, looking at her and waiting expectently. Vander's expression fell visibly when she saw the single rider bike that Deon approached. The noise of the engine grated against her ears, further evoking the rageful headache that was still splitting through her head. It wasn't her first time riding as a passenger on a bike...but the previous times, it had been a bike meant for two. And she hadn't felt like she was going to pass out at any second. She approached hesitantly and climbed onto the bike. Forgetting about her own personal boundaries, she pressed herself as close as she could to Deon. Right now, she was more worried about staying on the bike than keeping her distance from him. Wrapping her thin arms around his chest, she held on as tightly as she could manage, fully aware that it was not all that tight. As soon as he felt that she had a good enough grip on him, he pushed down on the petal and they were off, out of the parking lot of The Spit and down a narrow path of windy alleyways (the same path he had taken her down before) until they reached the warehouse. Lurching the bike to a quick stop, though keeping it going, Deon jumped off of the bike and approached the door, knocking the same rythmic pattern as he had done the night before...only this time...there was no answer. Deon frowned, and tried again. Nothing, not even a peep from the other side. Deon turned to Vander. "Did we come here last night? When I got you your stuff..." She shook her head, entirely uncertain. "I don't know...you don't...when you're having Lucid withdrawals, you can't see stuff right, and you can't focus, and..." she took a breath, staring intently at the door and searching through her memories. Everything was sharper with Lucid. The door was blurred, the entire alleyway was blurred, as if she was viewing it through a haze. She raised a hand to her head, closing her eyes and willing herself to focus. Last night, she'd had Lucid, after Deon had injected it to her neck, and before he had taken his payment for the drug. Opening her eyes again, she glanced around the alleyway. Her gaze settled finally on a spot on the ground some distance away. It was blurred now, like everything else. But she remembered what the ground had looked like with Lucid. Looking back to Deon, Vander nodded firmly. "Yes. It was here," she answered, looking worried. "Why's there no answer now?" Deon threw his hands up in the air. "Do I look like I have a fucking clue?" He shouted at her. He ran his hand over his face quickly, trying to think. Something wasn't right, [i]someone[/i] was always here. He left the front door and started walking around the building until he found a window and tried peeking inside, but his guys had them painted black long ago. With a grumble, he drove his fist into the glass, immediately feeling his skin starting to tear around his knuckles. He brought his hand back out through the newly made hole and punched the rest of the glass out, ignoring the blood dripping down his arm from his fist, until there was nothing put an empty frame where a window had once been. Vander followed him around to the window, growing more unsteady on her feet by the second. The tremors had returned, as violent as ever, and it was growing increasingly difficult to concentrate on what was happening. She leaned heavily against the wall, watching Deon with a scared expression, and praying that somehow, there was someone inside. At very least, a handful of syringes. If she didn't get Lucid tonight, she knew that she wasn't going to make it to morning. Putting both hands on the ledge, he jumped up and hoisted himself up and inside, hearing his boots landing on the cement below him with a loud echo. Once he straightened up and looked around, his stomach turned and his face grew dark. Dead. They were all...dead. -------------------------------- One Year Ago [i]“Shit, mom’s home. Quick, hide the ice cream!” Deon laughed, practically pushing his little 8 year old sister [url=http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/img-thing?.out=jpg&size=l&tid=49450919]Kallian[/url] off of the couch and shoved the carton of double fudge mocha ice cream into her hands. “But she’ll see me!” Kallian whined, her bright green eyes truly unsure of what to do, so Deon groaned and scrambled off of the couch, picking up his sister by the waist and carrying her like a rag doll into the kitchen with his sister laughing the whole way. Once in the kitchen, he set her down on her feet gently and then took the ice cream from her and stuffed it into the freezer, just as the kitchen door opened letting their mother. Kallian and Deon both scrambled to look like they weren’t up to anything, but a mother knows. “Did you feed your sister tonight?” She asked, and Deon nodded his head up and down. “Oh really? What did you have?” Deon shifted his glance to his little sister and realized immediately his mistake. The chocolate ice cream had left evidence all over her tiny little mouth. “Uh…you know…shit like we always eat.” Deon said with a shrug and earned him a prompt smack on the back of the head from his mother. “You watch your mouth boy.” She said sternly, but Deon could only beam at his mother. “Okay, okay, so we had some ice cream. But mom, I got a HUGE bonus at work today. I got me a new agent, and he’s giving me double what I was making last time, provided of course I keep winning.” He said, the excitement oozing from his voice, unable to contain it any longer. “I went out and bought us some real food mom, stuff we can actually enjoy…like ice cream!” He got ‘the look’ from his mother. “I-I got some good stuff too. Fresh fruit, meat…mom, you don’t have to work anymore. I can take care of us. You can stay home and be a mom, you-“ Deon’s mother cut him off with a simple finger in the air, her attention then going to Kallian. “Kallie dear, won’t you please go wash up for bed?” She asked, and the girl obeyed, leaving Deon and his mother alone. “Deon we’ve already had this discussion-“ “And I’m not letting you ignore being a mother to Kallie like you did to me.” Deon interrupted, making his mother go silent. He put his hand on his mother’s shoulder, looking her deep in the eyes. “Mom…you don’t have to keep entertaining men for the rest of your life at night and working those three jobs during the day. You’re going to kill yourself. I just got handed this great opportunity and I bet that within a year, we can even move up a district with all the money I’ll be making…” “Deon…” “I’M NOT GOING TO DO NOTHING LIKE MY FATHER DID.” The room went completely quiet, and Deon’s hand left his mother’s shoulder and turned away, unable to look at the tears welling up in his mother’s eyes. “You didn’t even know you’re father…” “I know. And frankly, I don’t care who he is. All I know is that he left you when he found out you were pregnant. Left you to suffer alone…make bad choices…” Deon sighed and returned to his mother, pulling her into a tight hug, and the moment he did, she started to sob softly. “We used to have money Deon, yes a lot of it, but I’m not blaming that on-“ “You don’t have to. I already do…” Deon said softly, patting his mother on the back gently before slowly pulling away. “I’m going to go tuck Kallian in, and then you and I are going to have a big bowl of ice cream together and talk about the change that will be coming to this family.” He gently wiped his mother’s tears away and gave her a smile before leaving the kitchen to tend to his little sister.[/i] ------------ Still leaning against the wall, Vander waited anxiously for the tremors to subside. They didn't. The shakes kept coming, no matter how she tried to force her muscles to relax. The world was spinning around her, and felt nauseous. Holding a hand in front of her, she watched it shake. She'd gone through withdrawals before...but this was the worst she had faced yet. Vander moved closer to the window, almost reaching a hand out to steady herself against the frame, but catching herself at the last second when she saw the blurred outline of the broken glass. She dropped her hand, using the wall for support once again. Deon had been in there for at least a minute or two now... "Is there anyone there?" she asked, trying to see into the darkened room. The next question bore the weight of far more desperation. "Is there any Lucid?" A far-off voice shook Deon back to reality, ignoring the dead bodies litering the floor and then started to walk around. Someone was going to pay for this. Still, he had a debt to pay. He pushed through until he found the back room where they usually kept their drugs when deals had been made, though Deon had never been back there before. There was always someone to get the stuff for him, and now that he thought about it, there wasn't ever a time they [i]didn't[/i] have what he asked of them...no matter how obscure the request. When Deon stepped into the room...he realized why. His eyes grew wide as he marvled at the isles upon isles of stacked goods, mostly drugs from what he could see. Moving slowly through the area, he came upon a few boxed crates which he then pried open, finding an arsenel of weapons. Guns, knives, tasers...the works. It was clear to Deon right then what kind of men he had been making deals with now...these men owned the Black Market...or at least a portion of it. He found his hand reaching for a semi-automatic pistol and felt the cool metalic grip in his hand, his other hand fondling the barrel of the gun in awe. He looked back behind him, wondering if Vander would even have the guts to come into the warehouse or not, but decided not to chance it. Whoever killed his guys...it wasn't about a robbery, otherwise this place would have been cleaned out. No, whatever this was, was personal, and he was going to find out just how personal. He grabbed for a gun holster and strapped it around his waist, tucking the semi-automatic gun in the holster and then adjusted his shirt so that it was covering the whole thing. He then left the crate of weapons and persued looking for the lucid, it taking quite some time before he found a tiny unopened box of the stuff which he tucked under his arm and then left the back room, jumping back out the broken window he had come in. He tossed Vander the box. She fumbled, nearly dropping it due to how badly her body was shaking by this point, but managed to clutch the box tightly to her chest. "There, should be enough to last you a month at least." He said, though his voice sounded unhappy about it. "You know that stuff will kill ya..." He then shrugged. "Just sayin. Anyway, you need a ride to wherever it is you go after you get your fix?" Vander was barely paying attention to what he said. A month...she wouldn't need a month's supply, not at this rate. But it was comforting to know she held so much of the drug in her hands. She turned the box over in her hands, looking for a place to open it, muttering an answer to Deon as she did so. "Yeah, I know," she replied distractedly, still trying to find an opening in the crate. "I'll be gone before this supply is." She handed the box back to Deon, evidently unaware of the potential shock value of what she had just said. It shook in her tremoring hands. She was so close to getting her fix, and she couldn't get the damn box open. "Can you open it? Please?" Vander asked him. Deon kept his eyes fixed on her, but took the box as she had asked. Only...he didn't open it. "Let me give you a ride home first." He said. "I can't be involved with no cops again asking me about killing someone else if you decide to just die right now." His words were spoken truly, but his eyes...his golden yellow eyes held something in them that they hadn't in nearly a year. Concern. She watched him for a half a second before her face twisted into a pained scowl. "If I [i]die right now[/i], it'll be your own fault for not opening the damn box," she told him, voice laced with an angry bitterness completely opposing her usually quieter tones. Deon just laughed, obviously calling her bluff right away and with a blink, the look in his eyes was gone, replaced with a cold undertone that cast that particular darkness across his face once more. She raised a hand, running it through her hair and forcing a painfully deep breath into her lungs. It made the muscles through her chest ache, and she gave a quiet noise of pain. "Fine," Vander agreed after a reluctant second, voice calmer once again. "Fine, just open it as soon as you drop me off. Zone 16. Apartment block B-121." He nodded and mounted the motercycle once more, clutching the box tightly in his already injured and bloody hand, using the side of his bent leg to steady it and put his free hand on the handlebar, waiting for her to join him once again. She did so, walking over on legs that looked like they may give out at any second. When she climbed onto the back of the bike and wrapped her arms around his chest, her grip was even weaker than before.