Darren's pained observations were interrupted by a voice coming from his left. He sat forward and stared at the person who'd been next to him - he didn't know when he'd gotten there, but then again that wasn't too surprising. It wasn't like he'd been very aware of his surroundings while puking half of his life up.
He was definitely someone difficult to forget, even with all the bizarre things the mutant had witnessed recently. His eyes were strange, and his face was scarred in a fashion that made Darren's reptilian head seem fairly commonplace. Suddenly reminded of it and its exposed state, he quickly pulled his hood down, concealing the majority of his deformities.
The stranger was also quite large - not Rock Hammer large, but bigger than Darren, who wasn't exactly small. He also had a quiet aura of danger about him, something that went beyond his unusual appearance.
"Asking the wrong guy, friend," Darren rasped, shaking his head with a smile. He was already starting to feel better - his vomiting session had definitely had a good effect on him. His head was clearing up, and his stomach no longer felt like it was on fire. He was feeling a little hungry, but he suspected there was still some glass in him and he didn't plan on eating anytime soon. "What I know makes a short list. This is a Stalker base, and I was brought here by a man named Viktor. He's a leader of sorts, I think, but I'm fairly sure someone else is in charge here. I could be wrong, though."
He pushed himself off the table and braced up against it as he dealt with a momentary feeling of lightheadedness. "My name's Darren, by the way. Darren Blight," he croaked, offering his hand to the stranger.
Halak mulled Viktor's name over in his head for a moment, wondering if it would trigger any kind of memory, but it didn't. As the dead end thoughts drifted away he noticed the stranger, a man by the name of Darren Blight, holding his hand out. The muscles in his jaw worked as he suppressed the initial feeling of danger the swept over him. It had been such a long time since someone offered him any kind of "human" gesture. The shape of his pupil began to dance as he eyed the hand for a long breath, changing from a predatory slit into an odd star-shaped pattern. Slowly, after a breathy exhale. Halak extended his own stiff, awkward hand out and grasped Darren's in his own with surprisingly gentle force.
"Ha-" His voice felt heavy from the unconsciousness he was still in the process of flushing out of his mind. "My name is Halak Arston. And," he paused trying to remember the proper words. "thank you for talking to me."
The man - Halak, was his name - seemed uncertain at first, but eventually he accepted Darren's hand. It was strange, in that the man's hesitation seemed to come from being caught off guard by the friendly gesture. It shouldn't have been too surprising, given the state of the world, but the sight still made Darren feel somewhat sad.
The man, who was almost certainly a mutant, added in a bit after his introduction that made Darren's eyebrows raise.
"You never have to thank me for that," he grated, hitching a smile back onto his face. "I'll always talk to you, whether you want me to or not. Some would say I talk too much, actually," he said with a chuckle. "Never be afraid to tell me to shut up, if you need a bit of peace and quiet."
The room had emptied out for the most part, with the excitement of the earlier activities (his nipple was still sore) now gone. Viktor was departed, likely with some business to handle now that the horrors of the mushroom drink were behind him, and others had left as well.
"So what brings you here, Halak? Looking for shelter, safety… or maybe a change of scenery? That's why I'm here, anyway. Was underground for a long time, needed to get back out under the sky. Not like we can even see the damn thing," he added with a grin, "but still. The people here are good folk. Many out there would sooner take what we own and leave us for dead, yet these people, they use their resources to help complete strangers. There's a lot of humanity still here, I'll say that much."
A strange feeling crept across Halak's face and, after a moment, he realized that he was smiling. For the first time in what must have been years, he thought something was funny. Not only that, but he managed to work his mouth in that archaic show of emotion which seemed lost to the long forgotten better times.
Darren was a rare sort of person in this day and age; genuine. Finding another human being so willing to make conversation took Halak by surprise and part of him wondered what kind of danger the situation hid, but another part of him was truly grateful for the interaction. "I," he spoke slowly, trying desperately to structure his sentences correctly. "I heard a rumor that there was some kind of cure out this way, but I haven't had any luck." Halak's eyes fell to the floor for a long moment. His eyes grew distant and somber. With a sigh he looked up, face back to normal. "I ended up in here because I triggered an explosion in a bunker to the north. It was filled with tech. I couldn't identify any of it though. A woman named Darina brought me in."
"A cure?" The uncertainty Darren felt dimmed as he watched Halak closely. Yes, most definitely a mutant, and one who'd been through quite a bit. There was a long journey behind him - undoubtedly he'd traveled very far in search of a solution to what ailed him. During the many years Darren spent wandering the wastes and staying briefly in small towns and communities until reaching the Underbelly, he'd encountered a multitude of mutants like himself. Some had been similar to him, desiring to live their lives in peace, keeping a low profile whenever possible. Others had been violent, prone to outbursts and eager to display their hatred for the world that scorned and rejected them.
And then there were the others, fleeing, ever fleeing the horrors of their past. Struggling to find a path, something to fight for, something to achieve. For some it was a desire to right the wrongs of the world around them, giving back in the hopes of delivering onto themselves some rare good karma in a bleak world. For others, it was a way out they sought. Yes, Halak wasn't the only one willing to traverse the globe searching for a cure.
"I understand," Darren rasped quietly with a nod, as if Halak had answered his question. "And I don't know that your luck will improve, friend, but if it can be found, I'm sure you'll find it." Darren knew very little about this man, and maybe it was the unyielding part of him that was determined to see the best in everyone, but he trusted him.
"And if I can help, I will."
The story about the bunker was interesting, and undoubtedly the reason Halak had inquired about leadership within the base. It was definitely information that the higher-ups, whoever they were, would be interested in. "Darina was in my group when we arrived here. I'm glad she got you here when she did, the doctor seems to really know his stuff." He nodded in the direction of a couple Stalkers near the door. "Maybe they can help you with finding whoever's in charge around here."
"Your group? How long have you two been here?" Halak found this piece of news interesting, if not for the chance to learn something of the strange woman, but to find out that she might be a recent member here. He learned forward and gasped as a sharp pain tore through his innards. After a moment. "Yeah, my body was giving out by the time I reached this place. I would have died out there." His eyes grew distant again. In a very low, nearly imperceptible breath, he spoke again. "Sometimes it seems so much easier."
"We arrived very recently," Darren replied, as a guilty smile manifested itself on his face. "I know, it didn't take me very long to get myself into trouble, but there's no helping it. I guess I have a knack for it."
He saw when Halak hurt himself leaning forward and realized just how well the man had been coping with what must've been some serious injuries. Darren caught what the mutant whispered and offered him a firm shake of his head for an answer.
"I wasn't sure what to make of Darina, at first, but it sounds like she saved your life. It also sounds like you weren't meant to die out there, Halak," he croaked, his eyes intent on the scarred face of the other man. "Would it have been easier? Maybe, but nothing worthwhile comes easy. We fight on."
Halak was overcome with a bittersweet sense of sorrow and elation. So many times he had been within the claws of the other side, but he always managed to walk, crawl, or drag himself away. Anxiety coiled around his mind and suddenly he was unaware of what to say. Maybe there was no response to true wisdom. "Bright words for dark times. Never lose that part of yourself," he said, never taking his eyes from Darren's. "So many of us have."
With a throb of pain that bristled from his stomach, Halak stood and stretched his imposing torso. A smooth staccato of cracking erupted up his spine. "I'd like to talk again. It's been a long time since I've had a..." He paused, becoming unsure of himself. "A friend." He held out his hand to grasp Darren's before grabbing his coat and turning to leave.
Leaving Darren to his business, Halak approached the two strangers apparently called Stalkers. "Uhm, could you tell me where to find Viktor?"
With a ginger smile, a brown haired man gave him directions to where Viktor seemed to be going. He nodded his thanks and walked out the door.
Darren took Halak's hand once more, smiling as the other man prepared to take his leave. "And a friend you have. Anytime you want to talk, just say the word."
He remained where he was as the other mutant departed, still leaning against the table. It started to shift and he hastily changed the way he stood as he remembered his ongoing weight gain. After a moment, with one last cursory glance around him, he started limping towards the exit.
Darren had encountered many new people in a short amount of time, but there was something about Halak that stood out. It wasn't that he was a mutant - there was no shortage of them, if Darina was what he suspected she was. There was also the giant with the funky aroma, but that was another story entirely. No, Halak was different, and Darren was glad the man had chosen to ask him, of all people, about who led the Stalkers. There was no such thing as too much conversation, after all, and it never hurt to make new friends when it was possible. That kind of thing, in his experience, was a rarity beneath the fog.
Darren's smile widened as he prepared to exit the room - he was eager to put the place, and the things that happened within it, out of his mind.
Ever busy around the operating room, Stefan allowed the patients to fraternize freely, mostly just relieved that they were both in decent enough shape again to do so. While they chattered away, the good doctor mostly cleaned up after the mess caused by all the sudden arrivals. Bloodied and dirt-covered gauze from wound cleaning was tossed into a small incinerator, buckets used for toxin purging were rinsed (he made a note of the blood present in Darren's, in case internal injuries or other sicknesses had to be taken care of later), and vials of herbal medicine were cleaned out as well. At least, the vials that had survived the ordeal.
When the door opened, the masked medic swiftly turned towards it. Luckily, nobody else was coming in for another emergency tending to, but Darren's walking raised some concerns. "Excuse me, sir? If you'd like, I could take a look at your leg. Limping won't do you any good out in the field."
The voice was clearly directed at him, but it took a moment for Darren to register that the doctor was talking to him. He turned, still smiling cheerfully, and regarded the masked man who'd very recently helped save his life.
"No need to call me sir, friend. The name's Darren Blight, Darren if you like. And I'm rude as hell, trying to leave without thanking you. I'm in your debt," he croaked solemnly, lowering his head a fraction of an inch as he acknowledged the man standing in front of him.
"As for the limp, well," he broke off so he could let out a raspy bark of laughter, "I've had it for five years now. I've been limping through the wastes for a long time, though my survival is more the result of luck than anything else. I don't doubt your expertise, but I don't know if you can help me."
While Stefan's face couldn't be seen, he smiled as well, nodding a little. "Darren it is. But don't worry about that, I'm just doing my job. Though it would make my job much easier if you avoided drinking toxic chemicals in the future." He started to extend a hand to offer a handshake, but stopped and took a moment to remove his gloves first. Those would need to be cleaned up once things were fully calmed down.
As the limp was explained, Stefan nodded. "Well, that could be the result of a few things. A broken bone might have set badly during healing, depending on age, it could be a bad hip. Maybe one of your legs just had a growth spurt. Mutation can cause all sorts of odd variables like that." He straightened his stance up a bit, stroking at the section of the mask under the beak where his chin would be. "If it is the bone, then I could potentially fix that, but it wouldn't be very pleasant. It involves breaking the bone again, and making sure it's nice and straight while it heals."
Darren rubbed at the back of the hood covering his head, feeling somewhat embarrassed as he was reminded of the very recent episode suffered by himself and Viktor. "Yeah, I don't think I'm gonna be drinking again for a long time. And I like Viktor, but I'm not touching anything he gives me," he finished with a smile as the doctor spoke about the possible causes of his limp.
"Oh, it's definitely the bone, alright," he rasped, nodding as his memory took him back to one of the most horrifying experiences of his life. "I broke the leg when I, uh… well, I threw myself off a cliff. Didn't heal properly, after, and over time I learned to live with the limp. Got very good with a quarterstaff."
"Probably for the best. Viktor's a good man, but he's too damn adventurous for his own good sometimes." Life among the Stalkers had gotten Stefan quite used to all sorts of craziness, and he'd had more than his fair share of patients brought in because they were doing stupid things, so it wasn't an entirely new experience. Admittedly, most of the others came in for surface wounds, not potentially deadly self-poisoning, but things happened.
With a nod, Stefan decided not to pry into the reasons why Darren might have decided cliff jumping was a good idea. It was a rough life out in the wilds, and plenty of people just couldn't handle it. He held no ill will against it, though he always wished there was something more he could do to help whenever it happened around the base and its adjacent village. "You're lucky to have gotten out with just a broken leg, then. Well, the offer's still open if you're interested. It might be worth it, especially if you intend to stick around with Viktor."
"I'm luckier than you know, Doc. Was up in the Tatras, that mountain range on Poland's border. I was being pursued, pushed higher and higher up, slowly but surely. Two of them, I remember," he said softly, staring blankly at nothing in particular, "the size of gorillas. A foot taller than you, at least, shaggy fur… I had no choice. I…"
He trailed off, then remembered himself, blinking as he shook his head. "A story for another time, then," Darren said with a smile, as something else occurred to him. "I agree I should probably do something about my mobility if I'm going to be running around with Viktor, I don't want to hold anyone back. But there's something you should know. I've been, uh, getting heavier. Like, a lot heavier. And I don't see any weight gain, no new muscle or fat, but I just feel it, you know? Like I'm getting more dense. Or maybe it's my bones."
Stefan listened intently to the explanation. His head lowered slightly at the descriptions, and as Darren's words faltered, the doctor nodded and patted his shoulder. The descriptions were all to familiar, and while he'd never seen one of the particular beasts himself, he'd heard stories and been shown drawn depictions. Somehow, that made them seem more intimidating to him. That unfamiliarity, not even knowing where to start on being prepared for them, but knowing somewhere out there the beasts existed.
While he could do nothing about bad memories, the new subject was something he was very much interested in. "I see. Well, that is definitely interesting...Does the weight come after anything in particular? Some sort of cause for it? Or has it been more of a gradual thing over time?" While he asked, he went to a cabinet and knelt by it, giving a quick search to find an old scale. It was a flat old device, like one would see in a bathroom, with a large circular face that had a variety of numbers and lines printed on it. He set it on the ground for now, curious as to where this could lead.
"It's definitely been gradual. I'd notice it when I'm climbing steps, or jumping down from any kind of height. It's subtle, but obvious at the same time, if that makes any sense."
Darren looked on as the doctor rummaged through a cabinet, eventually emerging with a scale in his grip. "Last time I saw one of those, it was about a month back, in the Underbelly. I weighed ninety kilos at that point, and nothing about my physique has changed since then. Should be lighter, actually, given all the moving around I've been doing lately."
"Then this should show us just how much has changed. If you'd step onto it?" Stefan waited, watching the numbers of the scale. 90 kilograms seemed very reasonable for a man of Darren's height. Hell, it actually sounded healthier than a lot of people who managed to grow properly despite malnutrition. And if it was a month ago, the amount gained could possibly give some sort of idea as to how much the changes brought.
Darren knew he was definitely heavier than before, but not knowing the details had made it easier to ignore. He didn't know if it was something to be worried about or not, but he still liked being able to remain safely in the dark about it. Regardless, it was time to pop that particular bubble.
He took a breath and stepped forward onto the scale, focusing on the doctor instead of on the numbers below him. The man's mask hid his face, along with whatever expression he may have had, but the truth, for better or worse, was going to come out.
Stefan looked a little surprised, and a few times, his gaze shifted between the scale and Darren himself. "Well, that's certainly something. If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to perform a skeletal examination later. It's not the most orthodox method, but if something is building up in your bones, I should be able to feel it." It was meant quite literally; the base had no x-ray machines, despite Stefan's push to somehow obtain some, so bone injuries were detected through ethereal touch. "Until then, I think we've done all we can today. And thank goodness, this has been one of the busiest days I've had in a while."
The doctor's demeanor and the way he stared from the Darren to the scale, and back again, made the mutant look down at the numbers with a sigh of resignation.
113 kilograms.
He stared down at the scale in silence for a moment, then looked back to the doctor. "Well ****. Yeah, definitely something, then."
Darren had no idea what the cause could be, but it was clear Stefan had some theory as to what could be behind his mysterious weight gain. He wasn't quite sure what the man meant by a "skeletal examination", but he sincerely hoped he had some x-ray equipment of some kind.
He thanked the doctor and went on his way, limping out into the grey light of the outside world. He elected to head for his tent after all, as a wry grin formed on his face. If only he'd decided to take the nap as opposed to finding himself a drink, he could've avoided quite a bit of pain. Still, though. Made for a hell of a story.
**** me… the Fungal Lord, he thought, chuckling in spite of himself, and then he stopped as a woman walked right into his path.
"Ah, pardon me," he rasped, before doing a double-take. The platinum blonde hair, just barely shoulder-length, identified her as the woman he'd attempted to interact with shortly before his temporary descent into madness and hallucinations. Her face, pretty as ever, was currently locked into a scowl, but Darren still gave her his best, winning smile.
"How're you doing? My name's-"
"Darren, I know. I heard," she said, cutting him off. "You're one of the new guys, the one who drank all that toxic mushroom juice."
"Ah, yes, it was a misunder-"
"You're an idiot," she interrupted again, one hand on a hip. The other, he realized, hefted his quarterstaff. "It's a miracle you've lived long enough to get so old. Here, you left this in the lounge," she added curtly, handing it to him, before turning on the spot and stalking away.
He stared after her for a long time, before shaking his head with a smile and continuing towards his tent.
"I think she likes me."
_________________ Learning a simple lesson isn't always simple. Sometimes, you have to slowly lose everything great around you to understand the gravity of your shortcomings. Admit that your egos have grown too large, that you've lost your sense of what you realistically are, and maybe you can repair the road that has broken beneath the weight of your failings. Or maybe you'll just keep going as you've gone, and you'll learn nothing, and eventually, everything around you will become dust. To be honest, that's by far the likeliest of all outcomes.
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