As Dawn dissipates into nothingness the third turian tilts forward, falling against the wall he had her pinned against. The sudden surprise of holding onto nothing is heard in the confused gasp. The turian with the red markings is in full swing by the time it's even registered that his target is no longer there, his razor sharp talong slicing through a cloud of black smoke where Dawn's face was not even a second prior. His hand crashes against
#Adrasteia – May 2, 2019
the wall, sending a sharp pain through his joints and causing him to recoil in agony. He stutter steps back, cradling his arm. The third turian, palms against the wall, barely even has the chance to begin standing up straight when a biotic powered fist slams into his back. The crushing blow is met with an agonizing cry as his entire body slams into the wall he was up against. His body crumples to the ground and he quickly rolls onto his back,
The large man in the red hoodie reaches back, preparing to crash a fourth punch down on the bag thief, but the pathetic display of defense gives him pause. For a second he remains as he is, mounted atop the turian, right arm cocked back as a bit of the fight drains from him. No fun beating on a man who doesn't fight back. The small burst of light and unfamiliar sound at his back cause him to glance back over his shoulder in concern for the
attacked woman just in time to see Dawn clobber the turian from behind with a burst of biotic energy. It seems that he missed her little teleportation trick. Judging by the wide eyes on Tash, the same probably can't be said for her. Grant is... well, he's probably too drunk to know what he's seeing. The large man quickly climbs off of the turian and reaches into the pocket of his hoodie. That telltale CLICK of a weapon unfolding sounds out
and he grips the Predator pistol in both hands as he sweeps his gaze back and forth across the trio. Good form. Not his first time having to use a weapon. Finger stays off the trigger. Disciplined. "This is it! Get the fuck out of here! If I ever see you assholes around here again, you're dead!" he threatens, his tone and the familiarity with which he addresses them seeming to imply this isn't the first time they've had troubles with this
particular group of turians. "You hear me?!" he continues to shout, "Next time I see you crossing that street, I'm gonna kill each and every one of you motherfuckers!"
The bag thief is scrambling back to his feet. Breathless and dazed. But despite the beating he just took, he still passes a glance towards the bag. The pistol swung his way is enough to cause him to rethink going for it, however, and soon enough he's backpedaling across the lot. After a few steps, he swivels around and takes off. The other two, likewise, seem to be in a bit of a daze. The turian with the red markings hurries to help his friend
back to his feet only once they've put some distance between themselves and Dawn. The large man's shouting seems to fall on deaf ears as the pair watch Dawn in confusion. They, too, begin to retreat but, considering their gaze remains fixed on Dawn up until the moment they turn tail and run, it's unlikely that it was the Predator pistol that scared them off.
Dawn 's posture is aggressive, faint distortions of biotic energy swirling around her. She'd been prepared to send a kick in the direction of the turian with the red markings, but she stops herself at the last moment when she realizes they're not attacking. It looks like it's taking active effort for her not to launch another attack at the retreating turians. Her gaze remains fixed on them as she slams a fist into the warehouse wall,
discharging the built-up biotic energy in a burst of ethereal violet that carries enough force to put a nice dent in the wall, and hopefully encouraging the dazed turians to hurry up and run already.
The turians don't seem to need much more motivation. Their cautious backpedaling quickly turns to a full-scale retreat, attempting to catch up to their friend when Dawn puts a fist-sized dent in the side of the building. One nearly slips in the slush as they reach the fenceline, but they don't stop. The large man's gaze turns to Dawn as she discharges her biotic energy into the wall. He lowers the pistol to his side, keeping hold of it for the
moment. He looks a bit taken aback at the discovery that she's a biotic, restrained curiosity slipping into his features. But after a moment he collects himself, drawing a breath in through his nose and releasing it as mist through his mouth. "C'mon, let's get you inside." he huffs as he takes a step towards Dawn's bag and lifts it from the snowy ground by the strap.
Tash had front row seats to the whole ordeal so, unlike Mr. Red Hoodie, she's far less curious and more... downright confused over what she just witnessed. Fearful even. She remains stood beside Grant, arms folded across her chest- guarded- as she watches the violet-eyed woman.
Dawn draws in a sharp breath, hands clenching and unclenching as she tries to disappate the remaining tension from her body, gaze locked onto the turians until they're out of view, at which point she looks to the man in the hoodie. She exhales and nods a couple of times, holding out a hand for the bag, apparently not particularly comfortably with the idea of letting anyone else hold it. "Thank you." she says stiffly, expression starting to
lose that focus now that the fight seems over. Turning frayed. Uneasy. She doesn't meet his eyes as she gestures for him to hand over the duffelbag.
The man hesitates for a moment, merely watching Dawn as her unease takes hold. He casts a glance down at the duffelbag before reaching out and handing it over. There's a small, thin trail of blood running down his cheek from where the turian he had pinned managed to scratch him in his desperate attempt at wrestling the man off of him. "You're welcome." he says, the pistol in his other hand clicking shut as he stows it back into the pocket of
his hoodie. He reaches up with his now-free hand and touches at the cut on his face before looking at the small amount of blood that stains his fingertips with a sigh. "...Looked like you were doin' an alright job of handlin' it on your own, though." he comments with an empty snicker and a shake of his head as he begins to lead the way back down the alley. After a few steps he gives a shout, almost as an afterthought, "Ay! Doc! C'mon! Make
Grant gives a loud, frustrated sigh. "I'm coming, CJ! Just-..." a grunt sounds out as he struggles to climb off of his makeshift stool. It takes a moment for Tash to snap out of whatever haze she's in and help him up. His voice begins to quiet once he's back on his feet, "...gimme a moment."
Dawn is quick to grab the bag and slide the strap back onto her shoulder. She remains in place for a moment, blinking slowly as she tries to clear her head, her left hand going up to her side, fingertips brushing lightly against bruised skin. Carapaced knuckles managed to draw blood just above her ear, staining her fingertips once she pulls them back. She studies the blood on her fingers with a distant gaze, expression clouding over as her
thumb rubs at it. Grant getting up seems to snap her out of her distraction, and she starts to follow after CJ.
CJ glances back over his shoulder briefly as he continues towards the open door he was stood beside. "Biotic, huh?" he says simply. Less of a question and more of a blunt observation.
Dawn glances further down the alley but continues to follow CJ. She doesn't deem his observation worthy of replying to, the unwanted display and the stabbing pain in her head doing little to put her in a pleasant mood.
CJ merely nods to himself at the silence as he continues to lead the way. "We don't see many of you out here. Always plenty of work out there for a biotic." he muses.
Grant continues to stumble down the alley, but Tash doesn't follow. She merely watches from their small fire at the end of the alley. "There's Pops." he slurs.
Dawn 's expression sours further at CJ's comments, and she remains silent as she follows, splitting what attention she has left between the conversation and their surroundings. She's not about to get jumped again. Sloppy. Too sloppy.
CJ falls silent, seemingly awaiting Dawn's response as he leads her into the warehouse. Her silence is met with a sigh. Once inside, he turns to face her. "Look. I'm sorry I sent you walkin', alright?" he offers, seemingly assuming that's the root of her silent treatment. "But we got enough mouths to feed around here and-..." he draws in a sharp breath before shrugging his shoulders and concluding honestly, "I don't know you."
The inside of the warehouse is a single, large, open space. There's numerous rows of steel racks with aisles to walk between them occupying a good portion of the room. Boxes and crates fill the shelves. Against the wall there's a few tables. Cheap, showing a hefty amount of wear. There's a metal staircase near each end of the main floor leading up to a catwalk that runs the perimeter of the large building. There appears to be a rather large
room at each end of the catwalk as well, glass windows overlooking the main floor, but it's hard to see what's inside them from down below. One of these rooms was probably the office of the warehouse manager whenever this place was functional. If it was ever functional. Frosted glass window panels cover the entirety of the outside-facing walls on the second floor. It probably does a good job of letting in the light during the day.
Unfortunately, it's not day. The place is mostly lit by a number of lanterns- similar to those one might take with them camping- that are placed around the main floor. In the corner of the room on the opposite end of the large, rolling warehouse door, is a staircase that appears to go down.
Even with the door open, the warehouse is noticeably warmer than outside. Suspiciously warmer, even. If one were to pay close enough attention, they might notice the light red glow of a locking interface on one of the second floor doors, implying that it's powered. The young man CJ was talking with outside is seated at one of the tables, reading a datapad. He glances over at the new arrivals, taking a quick interest in whatever is going on.
A human woman is looking through a box from one of the shelves. She has it open on the floor in one of the aisles, kneeled over it, using one of the lanterns to sort through it. The trio's entrance gains a look from her, but little more.
Dawn 's gaze wanders the dark interior of the warehouse after they've stepped inside, some of the oddities that don't quite match her expectations causing a slight raise of an eyebrow. "I'm not looking for a handout." she assures, continuing to look around, but remaining concious of the others, CJ in particular. "What is this place?" she asks as her gaze returns to him, a questioning look on her face.
CJ follows Dawn's gaze around, eventually settling back on her, searching her features for... something. Her question prompts him to assess the old warehouse. "Best I can tell? Was some sorta warehouse." he says, probably aware that wasn't really the spirit of the question. But his attention is quickly grabbed by the young man.
CJ furrows his brow as he looks to the young man, then gestures blankly to the bleeding woman. "What does it look like?" he asks, "Those ugly ass platefaced motherfuckers again. Go get the first aid kit."
The young man studies Dawn as CJ speaks before nodding a few times to his request and hurrying out of his seat and towards the stairs going down. A disgruntled, flanged, "Hey!" comes from the open doorway. A turian. The one that was seated with the drell outside. Seems he took an interest in what was going on and followed the group over only to be insulted.
CJ winces as he hears the turian's voice and glances over to him. "Look! We got a situation here, alright?! I wasn't-..." he gives an exasperated sigh, "I didn't mean anything by it!" The turian dejectedly turns in place and heads back outside. The reaction causes CJ to reach up and rub at his forehead in frustration. With a shake of his head, he pulls the chair that the young man was sitting in away from the table and gestures to it. "Take
Dawn meets CJ's gaze, studying him in turn. She listens in silence to the exchange that follows, the final instruction prompting her to cast a look at the indicated chair. Her gaze turns to Grant, discomfort crossing her face, but after a moment's hesitation she opts to take a seat, letting the bag slide off her shoulder onto the floor next to the chair.
CJ folds his arms across his chest, gaze lingering on Dawn's wound. "Fucker got you good, huh?" he muses to himself. "Bunch of bottom-feedin' assholes." he adds in a mutter.
The young man makes a hasty return, nearly tripping on the last stair on his way up before scurrying back over to the others and setting the small first aid kit down on the table.
Grant opens the kit with an unfocused gaze. He doesn't bother with the gloves. Or with washing his hands. He just takes the cannister of medi-gel and sets it at the corner of the table. Turning his attention to Dawn, he stands above her and brings a hand to each side of her cheekbone. He puts a little bit of pressure, glassy gaze looking past her as he rubs small circles. A little higher. A little lower. More circles along her jawline.
Grant looks from CJ to Dawn, then back to CJ. "Whaddya mean, 'that's it'? She was punched in the head, not decapitated. She rubs some of this crap on the wound and-..." he gestures to the cannister, "...yeah, that's it!"
CJ draws a frustrated breath in through his nose. "Don't you wanna check her for-..." he trails off, swallowing loudly with a shrug. "...I don't fuckin' know! A concussion? Make sure that asshole didn't knock her fuckin' teeth out or somethin'?!"
Grant merely blinks a few times at the large man before looking back to Dawn. There's a slight sway in the way he stands, and the smell of alcohol on his breath is overpowering. "Well. Open your mouth."
Dawn tenses as Grant applies the medigel, immediately regretting her decision. She bats his hand away as soon as it's done, face contorting in the face of the overwhelming stench of alcohol. "I'm good." she assures, her attention to her surroundings failing for a short time as she closes her eyes, bringing a hand to her forehead and sitting very still as she tries to calm the headache.
Grant gives a few more unfocused blinks, merely swaying in place once his hand is batted away. Her assurance is met with a shrug of his shoulders and he looks back to CJ. "She's good!" he relays. He starts back towards the door, eager to return to his bottle.
CJ's nostrils flare a bit in frustration at the drunk man. "You're a shitty doctor." he calls after the man.
Grant plants a hand against the doorframe as he sluggishly navigates back outside. "I'm a vet!" he calls back in a slur.
CJ seems unwilling to give him the last word, shotuing back, "Then you're a shitty vet!" Once Grant is out of sight, he draws in a deep breath and shoots a look towards the young man who, in turn, makes himself scarce. "You... sure you're good...?" he asks once the others have left them alone and his attention returns to Dawn.
Dawn draws in a slow, strained breath, paying little to no attention to the exchange, her focus inward, at least until CJ addresses her. Her eyes open, looking up at him and giving a faint nod, hand still hovering at the side of her forehead. "I will be." she says, adjusting her assessment slightly. She reaches for her duffelbag, pulling it up into her lap and unzipping it, just enough to get her hand in, as if she doesn't want anyone
looking inside. She digs out a plastic bottle of water and a pill bottle. The lid is unscrewed and a couple of pills go into her palm, washing them down with a swig of water before putting both away again.
CJ watches in silence, merely nodding to himself at her response. A few moments of silence pass before he speaks up again. "You runnin' from someone?" he asks, clearly not comfortable with asking but feeling like he needs to. He lifts a hand to clarify, giving an exasperated shake of his head, "Look, I only ask cuz, like I said, we don't see too many biotics out here. So I figure, if you're out here, then you got a reason to be out here."
Dawn 's attention fixes on CJ, the question enough to bring her surroundings back into focus through the pain. Danger has returned to her unnatural eyes, gaze sharp as it meets his, her mouth a thin line with no good will left. "I told you. I'm looking for shelter from the weather." she says, words spoken slowly, tension filling the air as she goes quiet, still looking at him.
CJ, even with the knowledge that she's a biotic, doesn't seem particularly intimidated by her change in demeanor. He just gives a low, muttered, "...Right." sounding unconvinced but smart enough to know not to push his luck. He might not be intimidated but, that doesn't mean he's not aware- even without knowing what kind of power she truly wields- that she could probably kick his ass up and down this warehouse if she so wished. "Well,
let's get you set up with a room, then." he sighs, seemingly deciding against further questioning her for now. He turns in place, starting towards the same stairs the young man disappeared down before. "C'mon."
Dawn grabs her bag and gets up from the chair, but she makes no real move to follow CJ. "Room...?" she asks, shooting a wary look towards the stairs going down. "What happened to 'this isn't a hotel'?" she asks, misquoting his earlier refusal. She remains in place, crossing her arms. Seems she's not particularly eager to head down the unknown stairs.
A new onlooker watches from above. Up in the second-floor room overlooking the main warehouse floor, someone is stood in the window. It's hard to make out their features in the low light of the warehouse, but the faint glow of a lantern in the second floor room gives an undeniably turian outline.
CJ tilts his head back, looking up slightly in exasperation as Dawn questions him, coming to a slow stop and turning to face her again. "It's not." he says simply, casting a quick, brief glance about the warehouse. "It's our home." He lets his words linger for a moment before drawing in a breath. "Look, you said you're not lookin' for a handout, right? Well, we could use an extra pair of hands around here." He studies her for a moment
before giving a dismissive, impatient shrug of his shoulders, "It's up to you, lady. Could always go across the street and knock on some doors. I'm sure those turians got a spare room they could rent you." he suggests with a smug look.
Dawn makes brief note of the onlooker above, but doesn't dwell. CJ's words cause her to such on the inside of her cheek as her gaze wanders a little, considering her options. After a moment's thought she offers a nod, shrugging the strap of the bag up a little and following. It's getting late. Maybe it's worth a shot, for the night at least.
CJ draws in a breath and leads the way once more. "You're a pain in the ass." he mutters under his breath as he navigates the narrow staircase, "Guess you'll fit right in."
The stairs make a 90-degree turn and lead down to a long hallway that extends in multiple directions, seemingly connecting the warehouses underground and running the length of them. Bare, concrete walls. A large gate blocks off the entrance to the staircase at the bottom, though the door on it has been removed, welding marks where the hinges once attached.
CJ begins speaking as he nears the bottom of the stairs. "Best we can tell, this place was once some kinda corporate deal. Guessin' some kinda slave labor or somethin'." he explains as he passes through the gate, slapping a hand against one of the bars for emphasis, "Fuckin' batarians, right?"
Dawn offers no retort to CJ's muttering, descending in silence. As they pass the gate she eyes the bars with distaste, her movements stiffening a little. She continues to follow, albeit a bit more on edge, gaze scanning the barren walls.
CJ continues down the hall. "We took the doors off cuz-... well, who wants to sleep in a fuckin' dungeon?" he explains, casting a brief glance back Dawn's way.
There's the occasional clutter outside of some of the doors. A box here, a chair there. A few of the doors have little flares of personality. A name written on one. Colorful, abstract graffiti on another.
CJ takes a left turn, which leads to an identical hall. "Few simple rules." he begins, once more looking over his shoulder as if to make sure she's still following. "Don't block the hall. Don't take anyone else's shit. And, if you're gonna make noise? Do it outside. No loud-as-fuck drunken conversations at three in the mornin', got it?"
((Retcon :14*)) long hallway that extends in multiple directions, seemingly connecting the warehouses underground and running the length of them. Bare, concrete walls with doors lining both sides of the halls. A large gate-...
Dawn continues to listen and walk in silence. Studying the little bits of personalization causes her expression to soften a little. The final question prompts a faint nod and a glance CJ's way. "Got it." she confirms.
An asari is at a door near the opposite end of the hall, pressing at the door's interface. She wears a striking gown, purple with white accents, and a matching headpiece that almost resembles a crown of sorts. A crown, or a battle helmet, one or the other. At any rate, she most certainly does not look like she belongs here. The confusion she seems to be suffering only makes that more apparent.
CJ gives a sharp nod to Dawn's response. "Good." he says before really taking notice of the asari. It causes him to up his pace a bit with a groan. "Ay! Sister! What're you doin'?!" he scolds.
The asari startles a bit, jolting back from the door before noticing who is addressing her. She closes her eyes for a moment to collect herself before meeting CJ with her eyes. A kind, if somewhat empty, smile crosses her features. "Must I remind you that title is not necessary?" she muses before passing a glance back at the door. "I was merely checking to see if there was anyone staying in this room that may require my ear."
CJ looks a bit annoyed by the asari. "Nobody is in that room. And-... what did I tell you? You're wastin' your time here. We don't have any asari with us."
The asari tilts her head to the side in response to CJ, a knowing raise of her brow accompanying the gesture. "And what did I tell you?" she asks, her smile slightly widening. "My teachings are not only for asari." She seems to get the hint that she's not welcome to skulk around, however, and moves to pass by CJ. Her gaze turns to Dawn as she does. "We are all the same, after all." she says to Dawn with a kind smile as she passes by, elegant
CJ follows the asari with his gaze, having to turn to do so, as she continues on her way. "Uh huh. Uh huh. We sure are. We suuuure are." he agrees, a look of great disinterest on his face. He shoots Dawn a look. "Fuckin' weirdo." he mutters to her with a shake of his head, very much unbothered by whether or not the asari is still within earshot.
Dawn offers no interruption as the two speak, stepping aside to let the asari pass, studying her briefly. She offers no comment in response to CJ's mutter.
CJ watches Dawn for a moment before giving a shake of his head in response to her silence. "You're a real motor-mouth, ya know that?" he asks sarcastically as he continues past the door the asari was at. The one he stops at is the final one at the hall.
Dawn offers a quiet "Mh..." in response as she joins CJ at the door, making note of the nearest staircase.
CJ gives a roll of his eyes in response to Dawn's continued silence. With a few taps at the interface, the door slides open. He steps out from in front of the door to allow Dawn entry. "Well, this is you." he says with a gesture into the room. "I'll-... uhh-... have someone bring you down a pillow and some blankets." he says.
The room is small. Small, but clean. And, unlike the dark hallway that's lit only by the glow of door interfaces and the occasional lantern, there seems to be an actual functioning light in this room which slowly stirs to life once the door has slid open. There's only two pieces of furniture in the room: A simple single bed with a thin mattress atop it against the wall to the far right of the door and, next to it, a small nightstand that has
Dawn studies the small room, eyebrows rising slightly. The presence of a matress is undeniably a pleasant surprise. She sets the duffelbag down on the bed and looks CJ's way, studying him. "Appreciate it." she says with an uncertain nod, not seeming quite sure how to react, offput by the helpfulness.
CJ follows Dawn slightly, but stops in the doorway, offering a small nod in response. "Yeah." he says, seemingly not all that much better at being helpful than Dawn is at recieving help. He leans back, studying the doorframe as if to make a point. "These doors weren't meant to be locked so all they got is what we were able to rig up." he explains with a shrug. "Passcode entry. Nothin' fancy. No network or anything. If you're still here
tomorrow, I'll show you how to change it." he says, implying he probably doesn't expect her to stick around. "For now... Four-Four-Four-Four.... Four. Five. That'll get you in. Bathroom is right around the corner-..." he gestures in the direction they were heading with a nod of his head, "...you know where the stairs are." he continues to list, glancing off to the side as he seems to consider whether or not there's anything else she
needs to know. "Think that about covers it." he settles on, holding her gaze as if to see if she has any other questions.
Dawn listens in silence to CJ's rundown, nodding faintly a couple of times. As he finishes she considers asking about him, or this place, but a useful response seems unlikely, and might invite more questions in turn. It's four walls and a roof, no point in jeopardizing that tonight. Instead she just offers another nod.
CJ, once again, gives a nod in response. "Alright." he says simply, sucking in his lips as he takes a step back out into the hall. He starts to step away from the door before seeming to reconsider and reappears back in the doorway. A look of discomfort crosses his features, as if he's unsure whether or not he should even mention whatever he's considering saying. "Breakfast is at eight." he offers tentatively, seemingly having already gotten
the vibe that she'd probably prefer to be left alone. "Around eight. Nothin' is ever on time around here. Just throwin' it out there." he shrugs. "Think it's eggs tomorrow? I don't fuckin' know. They usually suck but, what the hell, right? It's food." he snickers. "Second floor. Room right above the stairs we came down." This time he doesn't seem to expect a response. He's caught on to how this works. Instead, he just offers another
somewhat uncomfortable: "Alright." to go with a stiff nod before giving the doorframe a pat and starting to move to take his leave.
Dawn does, indeed, offer no response, aside from a slight raise of an eyebrow at the mention of breakfast. Once CJ has left her gaze wanders the small room, looking for any sign of surveillance, as well as trying to locate the access panel for the door. This was a cell, wasn't it? How secure?
There doesn't appear to be any sign of surveillance. The door, while it seemingly was a cell door at one point, does have an access panel. The panel is haphazardly installed and the unit doesn't quite sit flush with the wall, but it's there. The wiring comes in from a hole drilled into the ceiling and is snaked into the panel from the top. If Dawn had paid attention, she may have noticed that the holographic interfaces of the doors they
passed by weren't uniform. They seem to have worked with whatever they could find. A mess of tangled wires are run along the edges of the hallway ceiling, snaking into holes drilled into the walls and the ceiling. It's a homebrewed job, for sure. But how secure is it? Probably not very. A person with the right skills could most certainly get into a room if they so desired and had the motivation and patience to deal with the sloppy setup.
Dawn nods to herself as her eyes follow the wire. On the outside. Figures. She'll have to figure something out later. For the moment she takes a seat on the matress, tugging her hood down and removing the scarf. Once free of it she lets out a heavy sigh, running a hand through her uneven black hair and closing her eyes. The pills haven't done much to help with the pounding in her head, and she finds herself just sitting there in silence as