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v. residency > |ezra's apartment - low tier

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The Outsider (Whales or Whatever) (davekatislife) | 229 comments Mod
The night had started out normal enough. A few drinks at the bar, a couple of tune ups for recurring cyborg clients and such. Nothing had been particularly amiss amongst the general hustle and bustle of the fast paced low tier. But all of the oddest days typically started out normal.

He couldn't recall too much. If he were being honest with himself, most of it had happened in a blurry haze. He was running, like before, like when he was a child. But now was different. He could run faster, jump higher, drop lower. But the foreman couldn't. It was the same man that had initially caught him. And he was going to leave that man to die, bleeding out on the city streets.

But he didn't.

As stated before, he couldn't remember much. He just remember that he'd made a decision. He'd think about the consequences later. But now there was an unconscious foreman with a new robo arm and several stitches up his back laying on his couch. It'd been like this for a couple of hours now. Ezra was at his desk, idly pressed against the back of his chair as he twiddled his thumbs anxiously.

message 3: by Hammie (new)

Hammie | 12 comments Everything hurt. That was the first thing he noticed when he did come too- Everything hurt and he couldn't quite move as he used too. It was soon after that this man realized he didn't know where he was, or for that matter who he was, and why he was where he was. Trains of thought came and went, moved to and fro in his mind, wracking his brain for some semblance of memory. Memory, which he came to the horror of knowing, he'd forgotten entirely. As he tried to move and figure out exactly where he was, or if there was a threat, he realized the new appendage.

So that was what hurt so fiercely. It burned near to where it connected with the nerves in his shoulder, and the small of his back felt like it was being popped open over and over again, which made it rather a challenge to do much of anything other than sit halfway up- And fall right back off of the couch and sprawling onto the floor below. Great. Groaning, again he attempted to pull himself up, not using the arm of metal just yet for fear that he'd damage something important. If he could remember anything important, that is. Wherever he was at least looked clean, seemingly in at least a somewhat good condition to his own state, which was to say; not good. He couldn't even remember how he'd gotten whatever had happened to him here, much less times before it, or anything in between. He was completely trapped and lost in the now of it all.

But he did seem to realize one thing, at least, from all of it. He didn't like not knowing what was going on. So he would figure it out, one way or another.


The Outsider (Whales or Whatever) (davekatislife) | 229 comments Mod
The idle tapping of fingers against the slick, glowing keyboard had been somewhat comforting in the dead silence of the room. A ceiling fan whirred up above, a gentle breeze brushing against the back of his neck. Time had passed and like many things, if not most things, he'd completely lost track of it. Though he found his perception had shifted a bit after being genetically altered down to the most rudimentary foundations of what it meant to be human. Genome and all that fun stuff.

When he heard the faint shuffling movement from behind him, he swerved around on his chair and came to am abrupt stop. He hadn't put a name to that face yet. It was silly, now that he thought about it. Perhaps he should have known the name of the man that had willingly condemned him to a life of glorified slavery. Perhaps he shouldn't have brought that man into his apartment, perhaps he shouldn't have done a lot of things. But they were done now, and he couldn't change what was final.

There was a gun in his lap and Ezra fingered the trigger, anxiously contemplating on whether or not he should use it. Okay, rationally he should, but he didn't want to. That'd be a waste of good parts. And Ezra wasn't a killer. He didn't care how morally ambiguous the whole of society wanted to be, he was a good guy. He kept telling himself that anyways.

message 5: by Hammie (new)

Hammie | 12 comments This man hadn't expected to see another with a gun in his lap as soon as he'd managed to turn around. He wasn't standing- Not when his vision spun so violently that he could barely make out the weapon at hand, but something clicked so deftly that he knew exactly what it was- And that it was used to kill, to harm. Out of instinct his legs pushed him backward, which in turn sent him against the lower portion of the couch, and that had not been a good fucking idea. It was bad enough when your head spun, but it was worse when you slammed your stitched back into a solid object and then cracked your head up against it. Instead of just a groan, this time the man let out a yelp, and then curled in on himself; one eye still on the other person in the room.

"Who... Who are you?" To say his voice was weak would be an understatement. To say his voice was weak because he was scared was yet another, horrid understatement. Because he was scared, and he had fair reason to be. He couldn't remember his name, or where he was, he didn't remember anything. And that was terrifying, truly, because what was he if not what he already knew in the first place? Nothing, most likely, but he wasn't going to admit it to himself until the other person answered him. Granted, he was in no position to be asking questions, but it was rather his only option. In some sort of first line of defense, he placed the new metal arm- As oddly as it was to feel, so much heavier that his frame shook to move it- In front of his face and upper body. Not the best of shields, but certainly not the worst.

And so he waited for this man to answer, backed up like a cornered animal, with all the cards in the opposite hand. There wasn't anything that he could do other than ask questions, wait for answers, and pray to whatever higher being he could think of that this man didn't have a vendetta against him. If he even believed in a higher power, that was.

message 6: by The Outsider (Whales or Whatever) (last edited Jun 21, 2018 11:13AM) (new)

The Outsider (Whales or Whatever) (davekatislife) | 229 comments Mod
Perplexed. The expression flickered across his features like a dying lightbulb, the subtle pop of its filaments were almost audible even as Ezra visually deflated and let out a soft sigh. He knew exactly what this was, and he figured that it would probably pass within the next few days. But until then, Ezra had time to convince this man not to kill him in his sleep or bring him back to the upper tier.

This half man. He tensed as he realized that the upper tier probably wouldn't accept him in this state. They had strict rules and policies. But Ezra wasn't worried about that right now. He was more concerned about the temporary amnesia and how to utilize it in his favor.

"... Ezra" he said as though it were somehow painfully obvious. "And I'm the one who fixed you up. You took quite a fall, you nearly died actually. But I gave you some neat gizmos and made you all shiny again." he shrugged.

message 7: by Hammie (new)

Hammie | 12 comments Ezra. So his name was Ezra- Who hopefully wouldn't decide to kill him within the next few minutes here. When the other became just slightly friendly his arm dropped back, still close to his face but in a less hampered position. This Ezra, had also apparently fixed him when he'd taken a fall. Must've been a hell of a fall, if he had a metal arm and something was probably wrong with his back in the first place anyways. Though that would explain a lot, such as why he remembered nothing and why he was in so much pain, but it also explained very little about who he actually was. Which really, was what he'd liked to have figured out, if this man even knew him before. He might have just been taken in on a whim, trying to do something good in the first place.

"Ezra." He repeated, a very, very slight smile coming up to his face, "Thank you. For helping me. If there's some way I can repay you then... Well. I should probably figure out where and who I am, first." That same smile fell when again he realized the true gravity of the situation, an leaned himself just a bit back against the couch.

By no means was he relaxed, but by no means was he truly afraid anymore. Yes, Ezra had a weapon, and that scared the living daylights out of him. But it also looked like he had no plans on using it, and that meant he was probably in safer hands than he would've thought before everything happened. If he could only remember what everything was. Of course he'd still be willing to pay back a favor, he knew that, especially one so grand as a life debt to someone he might be able to learn from. Both his own life, and maybe how to work his new mechanized parts better.

The Outsider (Whales or Whatever) (davekatislife) | 229 comments Mod
After coming to the conclusion that this guy probably wasn't pulling some joke on him, he set the gun on the desk and stood up, approaching slowly, "... lemme check your stitches, I don't want them to get infected." he muttered, making a turn motion with one finger.

He shook his head slowly, "I don't know you're name but I do know you, sort of. We've... seen each other around" he added. It wasn't a lie either. They had technically seen each other around in one way or another. "But you aren't from here, ya know, this place. The low tier. You're from the top level, with all the yuppies in pretty clothes"

message 9: by Hammie (new)

Hammie | 12 comments Well that was something. At least he somewhat knew where he came from, now- Upper levels of the city. Though being described as 'yuppies in pretty clothes' stung just a bit, and he couldn't quite place why. None the less he turned around, wincing slightly at the pain it brought, and settling so that Ezra could pay more attention to what he was doing.

"I'm surprised you even did this for me, not knowing my name. Then again names don't mean much, when you don't know your own in the first place." He sounded rather sullen, but he did comply, so it wasn't as if he'd pulled a fast one. There was no way he could've even pulled a fast one, he didn't remember anything. But here's hoping he did soon, so he could get back to where he came from, and stop being a burden to someone who- Apparently, at least- Only knew him as an acquaintance.

The Outsider (Whales or Whatever) (davekatislife) | 229 comments Mod
Ezra studied the stitches closely and ran the tips of his fingers over the handiwork. It was a fine job, he decided - probably because it was his job, and he took quite a bit of pride in how well he did his job.

But when the other spoke he found himself questioning his recent decisions. Why had he chosen to save this man? Was it some form of backwards justice? Being the bigger person? How did that solve anything? It certainly did nothing to calm the anxious stirring at the pit of his stomach. What if the other foremen came looking for this guy? What the hell had he gotten himself into?

"You don't remember anything? Anything at all? Do you even know what city this is?" he asked.

message 11: by Hammie (new)

Hammie | 12 comments The questions did bring something up, so apparently he could answer. It seemed like he knew nothing, but for now he at least knew that Ezra didn't mean to harm him. Though when asked the name of the city, momentarily his mind drew a blank, and his eyes searched the far wall for something to speak back other than a 'no.' Longer than it should have ever taken, in his opinion, he did eventually come up with an answer he was very unsteady on using.

"...Freyhaven? It's Freyhaven, right?" The three-tiered city. One that he couldn't remember the features of, but at least it seemed he remembered the name. "As far as everything else goes, I couldn't say. Don't know anything about myself, or about you, or about this place in general. It's just- Nothing."

Again grasping at straws, he sounded almost like a frustrated child, eyebrows furrowing together in what seemed like concern for the situation. How could he be of any use to a place he couldn't remember anything other than the name of? If that was even it's name, and his mind hadn't just betrayed him to bring some other backseat thought to it's forefront.

The Outsider (Whales or Whatever) (davekatislife) | 229 comments Mod
He nodded in understanding, empathizing with the confusion of being in a foreign body, in a foreign place. It was disorienting and above all, desperately confusing. How ironic of him to feel pity for a man who'd done the exact same thing to him. Oddly enough, he didn't feel any spite towards the other, not even a seething bitterness at the back of his mind. It was odd.

"Freyhaven, yeah. We'll give it time. The upgrades probably induced some amnesia, it happens when you fuck with the nervous system so.. sorry about that" he chuckled sheepishly and glanced around. The lighting was dim, a blueish glow reaching in through mostly closed shades. The air was chilly and there was a certain scent in the air - incense. ".. are you hungry?" he asked, breaking the awkward silence that'd fallen between them.

message 13: by Hammie (new)

Hammie | 12 comments Could've been what caused it, yes. The nervous system was a direct link to the brain, and messing around with the endings could have triggered something in the synapses... Or it was just from that fall he'd taken. That was also an option. If he'd lost an arm too it, then surely he could've also lost his memory to it as well. Though he was still focused on that same wall when the question of food came up, and again it took him a few moments to respond.

"Pardon- Oh, right, sorry. Food. I'm fine with anything, really. Not much of a picky eater when you don't remember what you like." That thought finished, and then another one took it's place. He needed a name, until he could remember his own. He wasn't going to say anything instantly, not knowing what would make a good temporary name and what he'd have to rule out later, but he would need one. People would think strangely of him if he just went by 'that guy' or something.

Hell, he'd think strangely of him.

The Outsider (Whales or Whatever) (davekatislife) | 229 comments Mod
Ezra stood from his spot cautiously, staring at the other man as if waiting for him to do something. Part of him still wondered if this was some silly ploy to get his guard down. But he knew the only thing silly about all of this was the fact that he actually thought that - that didn't mean he was going to let his guard down anytime soon though.

"Well most of the food I do have is canned..." he trailed, walking into the kitchen, which was connected to the living room. "How do beans sound?" he asked.

message 15: by Hammie (new)

Hammie | 12 comments "Beans sound fine, thank you." He muttered the words, still trying to see if he could remember more than he did. A name, mostly. One that he might have some attachment too. Upon making to stand up- This time with far more success- The man tucked his new metal arm around his waist to keep balance while walking in the direction the other had gone. Being alone at the moment probably wasn't wise, but it was also under some strange circumstances.

Biting at the inside of his cheek, crossing one leg over the other and leaning on a far wall, this man couldn't help but sigh. No names, no faces... Nothing. Maybe he could..? "You said you didn't know my name. Do you have a nickname, maybe? Anything at all? I can't exactly just call myself man, or guy."

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