Adrift

[Delila Castillon]

[member="Elliot Locke"]


"Of course you wouldn't."



Delila wasn't going to be uncomfortable herself. She stood up and went behind her chair, using her foot to unlock the legs. From there it was a matter of dragging it over to the end of the couch. She could easily sit in relative comfort as her task was carried out. In her youth she might have scoffed at such a notion. Time, old age, or a need to get off planet had changed her tone.


Looking over his face it was still a bloody mess. Reaching over, a piece of Scars shirt was ripped off since it was considerably cleaner than hers. Probably best to finish her task of making sure he didn't die. Infection in a small cut, something blood could hide.


"Sorry, forgot earlier."


Make shift cloth brushed across his temple,trying not to cause any more damage.

 

[Kenth Typho]

[member="Delila Castillon"]

In truth Locke hadn't even noticed the dried blood clinging to his face.

That probably should have concerned him at least a little bit, but in truth he was used to blood. His blood, someone else's, it didn't really matter. The smell, the taste, the feel of it rubbing against your hand, no, Elly knew blood like an intimate friend. Couldn't be otherwise, not when your entire job description usually began and ended with murder.

Oh, the SIS liked to color it up and call it neutralization of hostile targets, but at the end of the day Locke did his job and breached planetary sovereignty on a daily basis.

Assassinations weren’t his only job, of course.

"Don’t worry about it, Dahlia." He mumbled, taking out the cigarette to give her some space. "Used to blood by now."

It didn't really even take up most of his time. But for some reason the taking of the life was what he remembered most when thinking about his job.

"Sponge bath afterwards?"

 

[Delila Castillon]

[member="Elliot Locke"]



"Don't try to be too hard assed now. No other girls fawning around to impress."


Not having any water her method with the dry rag wasn't exactly perfect. Some was being removed, some wasn't. If she had any foresight she would have finished off the saline and made Scars look slightly less gruesome. Didn't bother her, she'd seen worse. A little dried blood was nothing.


"Sponge bath? I think the head on your shoulders needs the most blood right now."


Rag was discarded and her hands went to the back of his head with plans on moving towards the temples. Figured it might get a little uncomfortable as her hands went around the wounds. Keen eyes could see bruising starting to break out across his forehead.


"What else do I need to know about you Scars?"

 

[Kenth Typho]

[member="Delila Castillon"]

Locke smirked while she tried to dry rub the blood away. Wasn't working as well as either of them hoped, but that was the way with things.

"Not that I enjoy pretty ladies spitting on me, but saliva might help in this situation." This wasn't really the time or place to get awkward about these sort of things. Locke recalled how at one point they had been scouting out a place, had to swim to get there.

Along the way one of the operatives got slapped in the gut with one of those jellyfishes.

Regardless to say that the urine had flowed richly that day. Nah, no time to be a little sissy about stuff, when you were tight on time or even fighting for survival.

"I like long walks on the beach, romantic songs by moonlight and I am a dog person." A shrug followed that deadpan snark.

"You then?"

 

[Delila Castillon]

[member="Elliot Locke"]


"If you don't enjoy it, why bring it up?"


Brow lofted at her semi-rhetorical question. She wasn't terribly worried about his face. It wasn't a beauty pageant and Scars wasn't in front of his mass of adoring fans. Discarded rag went to rest on his shoulder for now while her fingers worked their way into the muscles of his neck.


"Ah shoot, more of a mountain gal myself. You're out of luck Scars."


Her shoulders shrugged.


"Myself? There's nothing much worth telling. I've pretty much told you everything important."

 

[Kenth Typho]

[member="Delila Castillon"]

"Gotta leave all options open, Dahlia, might be you were into that noise." Locke mumbled out, before chuckling softly to himself at the thought. "Gotta know what kind of maniacs I am inviting up my ship."

Or what was left of it anyway.

It was a good thing Locke had invested in reinforcing the inner structure of the freighter. Otherwise all of this would have been a gorram wreck, no matter how good he was at guiding a crash into brighter places. There isn't much you can do after all, once your controls are shut, the shields are down to 30% because the re-entry and sizzled right through a few dozen capacitors. But the reinforcement and the investment in a better hull had saved his life, directly and indirectly - it would have been difficult to survive out here without his ship.

Or get out for that matter.

Castillon had been a surprise though. A pleasant one, because he knew just how hard isolation could wreck your brain, if you weren't a careful one. Nobody to talk to for years, only yourself... it broke some people, while making others stronger.

Jury was still out which Dahlia was here.

The massage was good though. Strong pressure, but not strong enough to pop a vein. Determined circular motions... it eased out most of the tension he felt.

"I will give you one of my massages, once I can count to ten again. You think it would be safe to sleep a bit?"

 

[Delila Castillon]

[member="Elliot Locke"]



Shoulders shrugged as she stopped, thinking.



"Honestly, I don't see the harm it would do. If you were to go south there isn't much I could do for you to begin with. Don't exactly have a surgical suite or neurological training. I can sit here and make sure you breathe, shake you awake from time to time to make sure."


Wasn't like she didn't have time on her hands.


"So knock yourself out and get some rest."

 

[Kenth Typho]

[member="Delila Castillon"]

That was the truth of it and Locke appreciated the honesty.

There was a chance that he wouldn't be able to slip out of his sleep again, but that was life for you. He had made peace with the prospect of dying a long time ago. It couldn't really be any other way - not when your job meant that you had to put your life on the line every single day. So, it didn't really bother him all that much. Elly had done a lot in his life, some of it crappy, some of it good, some a mixed bag of gray neutrality.

"Alright, try not to feel me up while I am sleeping, please." The man rumbled, before opening one eye and aiming it at her. "I know it will be hard to withstand."

After that he took a last drag from his cigarette, blew out the smoke and then crumbled it between the tips of his fingers. It stung, that burn, but it was the good kind.

The kind that made him feel more alive.

"Night, night, Dahlia."

 

[Delila Castillon]

[member="Elliot Locke"]



"I'll try not to rape you. It'll be difficult, trust me."


Her patient was settling in for his nap as she leaned back on the chair. Delila decided she would keep an eye on him for awhile, waiting until he was in a deep enough sleep. Waiting in silence was nothing new to her. She had, judging from his timeline anyways, nearly a decade of practice.


Silence stretched out throughout the vessel, the sound of rain slowing. Typically the weather here dropped rain all at once then moved on, leaving it more humid and sticky then before. Scars seemed to be doing fine, at least his breathing was a regular rate.


Quietly she got up and moved around, figuring her way around the vessel. It took a moment to find the galley and even longer to rummage through the cupboards in search of her target ; ready-to-eat meals. She finally found one, complete with the self-heating packet. Clearly this Galactic Alliance spared no expense on Scars.


A little water and a bit of patience later she was leaning against a counter wolfing down Nerf Chili with the included crackers crumbled inside. Having eaten a diet of fish and tropical fruits and vegetables for ages, eat bite made her feel as if she was at a five star restaurant on Cloud City.

 

[Kenth Typho]

[member="Delila Castillon"]

Eventually... might have been days or weeks, but felt more like hours, one disorientated Elliot Locke found himself blinking in the shadows of the room.

The rain had stopped clattering against the hull, twisting slightly he didn't see Dahlia in her seat anymore. After concentrating Elly suddenly identified... really? The man blinked a few times, to try and regain some measure of focus, hands rubbing at his eyes to rub away the exhaustion.

His head felt better now. It was still sensitive, but... less so.

After a few more minutes he managed to turn around, feet resting easily on the floor. With some difficulty he pushed himself up and struggled to contain his balance. Took him some time, but eventually Locke was confident enough that he wouldn't eat durasteel, so he walked out of the room and onto the corridor.

From the distance... the sound of retching.

Locke sighed to himself.

"You okay there?" He half-shouted while approaching the bathroom down the hall.

 

[Delila Castillon]

[member="Elliot Locke"]



In the span of a decade Delila clearly forgot a lot of things. One of the most important was the quality of those survival ready-to-eat meals. Nerf meat wasn't exactly top choice. Crackers overly salty. Candy included as a 'morale booster' definitely too milk based. Add in the mix she hadn't ate real food since her own rations had ran out.


All of it an equation for disaster that ended up with her face down in the toilet. Part of her was pissed that it was such a waste of food, especially when she was incredibly hungry. The other part was calling herself an idiot. Noise over a brief respite from her stomach's revenge.


Scars, of course.


"Upset over the..." Steady breath, clearly her stomach didn't want her to talk "....lack of decorative soap..."

 

[Kenth Typho]

[member="Delila Castillon"]

By now Elly was leaning on the wall next to the bathroom.

There was something of amusement curled around his lips, as he listened to her quip. Even when completely karked she was still on the level.

That was funny.

But Locke had been there in the past as well. Back during training, it was one of the first things they made you go through, so you wouldn't ever make that mistake again. You only needed to kark your stomach with too much crappy food once, before you thought twice, even when hungering.

"Yeah, that must have been upsetting." Locke snorted. "We got a few magazines in there though. Does that mollify you a little bit?"

They were probably out of date by a lot though.

 

[Delila Castillon]

[member="Elliot Locke"]


Vomit had been flushed away, her forehead now resting against the cold floor. Silently she hoped Scars knew how to aim properly while using the facilities, although she felt far too bad to move even if there was a puddle of urine. Eyes closed for what felt like an eternity but was in all reality forty seconds or so.


Scars was talking again.


"No, was expecting little shell soaps."


A pause.


"I see you didn't die in your sleep."

 

[Kenth Typho]

[member="Delila Castillon"]

Elliot Locke was a crackshot, thank you very much.

But that wasn't important in the moment, neither would Elly have any reason to let her know this, because she hadn't made it verbally known. For a brief moment he simply chuckled and let her get everything out of her system. It was a mental component as well, trying to keep the dry heaving spiraling out of control. Things like that, it was a process like that.

"Not sure yet." Locke mumbled in response. "Might be my body just hasn't caught up with me yet."

He tried to stretch a bit.

Mind stretched, but did not break. Looked like there wasn't any permanent damage to his brain. Which was always a good sign after a crash like that.... not that he had a lot of experience with it, of course.

"I am gonna go take a shower, while there is still water left."

 

[Delila Castillon]

[member="Elliot Locke"]


"Alright."


This meant Delila would have to move. No big deal. There wasn't anything else to come up so if it came down to it there would just be dry heaves and nausea. Peeling herself off the floor was no small task. It didn't take incredibly long but she was hunched over, gripping the countertop as a fail safe.


Face was pale, nearly as pale as her 'regular' color, before the sun spattered freckles across her and tanned skin became the norm. Being here alone so long though, she knew movement was the key to survival as she shouldered past Scars.


"Its all yours."

 

[Kenth Typho]

[member="Delila Castillon"]

He shifted his body slightly to give her passage.

"Hey, at least now we both saw each other in a karked state." Locke spoke to her turned back, before shrugging. "Now we are at least on equal grounds."

Well, somewhat.

In his mind throwing up because of too much food and a stomach not prepared for it was kinda worse than suffering a head trauma. But that was an opinion Locke wisely kept to himself in the moment. There was literally no need to air it out loud, it would probably only make the pretty (green) lady red and angry right now. Which wasn't exactly what he wanted.

Anger was good in some moments, like in the bed, but not when you trying to survive.

"I'd go lie down a little bit, if I were you."

With that the door hissed shut behind him and he started to undress.

Locke felt really dirty.

 

[Delila Castillon]

Delila didn't consider vomiting and massive head wounds the same thing. Vomiting wasn't so much a big deal in her opinion. The horrible part was the stomach pain that lingered on. It was her fault for eating so much to begin with.


"I guess...It's not that big of a deal. I've experienced worse."


It wouldn't hurt to relax for a bit. It felt foreign to her, resting. For the last ten years it was nothing but trying to keep herself alive. It was harder than one first thought. There was a difference between staying alive on the battlefield and staying alive on your own in the jungle.


Relaxing would have to do. It wasn't as if she could put the ship together herself.


Delila found herself exploring the ship. She came across two rooms. One was clearly where Scars slept. Personal effects and a double bed. The one across the hall was a single bed with sterile surroundings. She chose to dive in to that one instead, silently declaring it her room for the duration of their time together.

 

[Kenth Typho]

[member="Delila Castillon"]

Warm water relaxed his aching muscles and made him think this wasn't as bad as it could have been.

At least none of his muscles were torn nor his bones broken. That would have been far harder to treat - taken time to properly mend and heal, time they didn't really have right now. Not when there was so much work to be done, if they ever wanted to get out of here in a living state of being.

"Haven't we all." He mumbled to himself more than her, before letting his head rest on the cold durasteel plating. The water poured over him and for a moment all the problems just evaporated.

Minutes... hours? It was tough to tell.

Eventually though he got out, dried himself off and started waddling out of the bathroom. Towel was wrapped around his waist and in all honesty... for a moment Locke forgot what had happened prior. Only after walking past the 'guest' room and hearing the snoring, did he remember.

Locke snorted, before shaking his head and waltzing into his room.

 

[Delila Castillon]

[member="Elliot Locke"]



Eyes snapped open in the unfamiliar location. Delila lay confused for a moment, rolling over onto her back. The room was dark and quiet and nothing like her crumbling stone palace in the middle of the jungle. It was Scars ship, he had told her to lay down for a bit. Seemed like she had slept through the night for the first time in a long time. A small stretch and her feet swung over the bed. Worn boots were put back on, lacing up her makeshift laces.


First move was to the bathroom where she picked up a fresh bar of soap, sticking it into a well-worn pocket. A glance to the kitchen was met with disdain as she worked her way out of the ship. It was pre-dawn, the sun not quite up yet. Delila was never a fan of sunrises but in ten years she had learned to hurry up and get things done.


Feet were leading her on the long journey back to her 'home' in the middle of the jungle. She would have left Scars a note but didn't see a pen and paper. Delila had a journal for the first few years but even that got deconstructed and used in her survival. Not that she had anything interesting to stay, more or less a way to keep her sane.


Delila figured she had something that could help Scars out with his ship. Maybe. Either way she wanted to take a bath of her own and get a change of clothes. At least the day was looking up with the borrowed bar of soap and the thought of leaving.

 

[Kenth Typho]

[member="Delila Castillon"]

By the time that Dahlia was finally awake again Locke was already working back outside.

She hadn't seen him, of course, because he had been working on some electronics again and the parts obscured his form. But they did little for when he finally pushed himself up from behind them, to walk towards a different strange contraption and Castillon literally walked into him on the way out. She fell to the ground, he fell to the ground and there were a lot of groans and ughs, as Locke wondered what the hell just had happened.

"I know you trying to get at this, but there are easier ways to get in my pants, you know." Elly mumbled while rubbing his head. Luckily her head had missed his by a wide margin, but still.

That was the first thing you thought about when you were wounded and stranded.

Check your wounds.

"Is... that my soap?" He eyed it with confusion.