(2018-07-27) Friendliness is the Best Medicine
Friendliness is the Best Medicine
Summary: Besa investigates a noise in an abandoned building to meet Dylan there.
Date: 2018-07-27
Related: None
NPCs: Carl
Scene Runner: NA
Players:
besa..dylan..

Abandoned Hospital — Shady Cove


Huge old abandoned hospital with different rooms here and there, the doors either off their hinges or open. Or missing all together. The floor is concrete, dirty from years of being unused as well as exposure to the elements, the ceiling high with a few gaping holes. Staircases, some leading to upper floors, some leading.. nowhere, are located near an old elevator shaft that leads to.. certain death.

Besa was not intending to go into the abandoned building. He really, really wasn't. He was actually headed to the park, maybe the woods with his bike to just kinda chill out and hopefully not fall anymore. We managed to leave the estate without Rain noticing his lack of helmet or pads, so if he falls it'll be worse. But maybe not so worse than hs ego can handle those elbow pads! He was walking by minding his own business when he heard… something. A groan. Was it a person in need? An animal? Cult member waiting to lunge at him from the shadows? Man, he hopes not. But if it's a person he feels the need to make sure they're ok so in he goes, with his bike (He's not foolish enough to leave it outside). "Hello? Is someone hurt?" He's got that thick accent, which might not do him well alone in this part of town. Hopefully not though. Maybe it's just a raccoon. Or a cultist raccoon, knowing Besa's luck. "Hello?"

As Besa walks through the abandoned building, he hears a noise from the floor above, echoing from the stairwell. The door of which is long since gone, ensuring no one gets locked in the abandoned hospital stairwell. Then a thump-thump-thump as a bottle of half-drunk Dr. Pepper rolls down the steps. As it comes to rest by his feet, it is still very fizzy. It couldn't have been here that long. A voice comes from a few feet behind him - there was no sound of footsteps to be heard. "You know… this really isn't that safe of a place. I'd think about going on back home or catching up with your friends, if I were you." When he turns, the boy from the skate park that was watching is standing there. Dylan is wearing possibly the same pair of dirty blue jeans, but a different shirt - this one a faded grey shirt with three buttons at the neck, though no collar.

Besa's head tilts, eyebrow raises slightly at the fizz drink. That seems…wasteful. "I have been in far worse places. I thought I heard…" But clearly he didn't. There's a nods, "If no one is hurt, I am sorry to have disturbed you." The ancient teen isn't one to try to prove his toughness to a teen that clearly needs to feel something, superior maybe? Dark eyes take him in though, making sure he's uninjured before nodding again, "Be safe as well." No friends are waiting for him outside, hopefully no cultists either!

As long as Besa doesn't consider a fairly fresh black eye or obvious finger bruises on his wrists and upper arms injured, then no Dylan ins't injured. Well there may or may not be more bruises underneath the rest of his clothes. There is a hiss, as the boy opens up a rather angry bottle of Dr. Pepper. And no, he didn't ever reach down and pick it up, much less the fact that it was about fifteen feet on the other side of Besa. "Hey.. just offering a bit of advice." He shrugs and gestures back down the hallway.

Besa's gaze narrows, "Are you injured?" The sudden appearance of the soda pop has him clearly uncertain, "I am not looking for trouble." Thin fingers tighten on the handle bars, which prolly makes him look even younger than he normally does. His lack of height also adding to the youngish feel to the ancient teen.

Dylan looks at Besa, blinking slightly, "Injured? Well, I mean, this is a hospital. But if I were you, I'd be careful. The orderlies here don't like it when they catch you out of your room, after visiting hours." Okay this was ONCE a hospital, but there hasn't been anyone working here or a patient here for many years now. The boy looks completely serious for a few minutes before he cracks up. "I'm just fucking with you…" He shakes his head, "Nah, I'm not hurt… but I was serious, this place isn't that safe… and no offense, but I saw you the other day…. you're not exactly the most graceful. You could really get hurt here if you aren't careful." He seems a little insistent that Besa leaves.

Besa frowns, confused. Is this teen mental injured, maybe? But then he laughs and that's almost as confusing. 'I am graceful. Just not on a bike. It is new to me, I am learning." His gaze fixates on the other's black eye, "You mean you are healing. It is not serious, I hope?" And then < "And I hope that whoever gave that to you has one as well?" His head tilts, making hemlock like a perfect haired puppy dog, "Why do you wish me to leave?" Is tomfoolery happening?

"Well, I guess it's a good thing that you are walking that thing and not riding it, huh?" While it is obvious that he is mocking Besa somewhat, there is something in his eyes that suggest that he is doing so at least good naturedly. Dylan turns his head just slightly, making it more difficult for Besa to stare at the shiner. "What this? Nah… I slipped and hit my face on one of the railings on the second floor. Like I said, this place can be a bit dangerous." He sighs slightly agitated, "Maybe because this place is dangerous, and I might not want to see some dumb kid get hurt for not listening to a bit of well-meaning advice, got me?"

Besa's not ever really been bullied all that much before. The jab has him looking a little bit like a kicked puppy dog now. But then he's lying, clearly and Besa looks up, "I was going to offer to heal you. But never mind. You seem fine." He doesn't seem to like being called a dumb kid, hose fingers tighten again and he just shakes his head suddenly channeling every thousands of years of teenager in him, "Whatever." With that he starts to turn the bike around to leave.

Regardless of how, the result is the same, and the, apparently not-so-dumb, dumb kid takes the hint and starts to leave. With the look of the cat that ate the canary, Dylan watches Besa turn around and start to leave. That is until he hears one of his compatriots upstairs throws an empty bottle against one of the walls. "See what I mean… place is just falling apart around us…."

Besa doesn't appear scared, even though most in his shoes would be (Such small shoes!). he will frown, not quite a glare , over his shoulder briefly at Dylan but he keeps moving towards the door. He's not going to force anything, but he's also not going to run like a chicken. One hand does let go of his handle bar briefly to get something all out of his pocket as he walks. It's way to small to be a phone or weapon.

Dylan grimaces as he hears Carl's voice. He looks at Besa, hoping that the kid has the common sense to take the hint and get out of here.

The grimace actually makes Besa pause, and then he silently motions for this other teen that he doesn't know to come with him. Clearly this is a bad situation.

Dylan sighs. If it is the easiest way to get the kid to leave, then he'll go with him. But not before he turns to the stairwell, "Yo! Carl! I'm going out to get a burger or something!" Before he gets three feet away the voice calls back down, "Then you better come back with food for the rest of us, ya lil bitch if you know whatz for the best of ya." Yeah, that is going to go just swimmingly. He follows behind Besa watching for a reaction and how to best spin things.

Huh. Dark eyes study Dylan and the sigh, does he want to be here? An eyebrow raises slightly but he'll be as quiet as he can as he pushes the bike out the door. He's definitely on alert now though, not fearful, just…aware. And thankful he didn't have Cocoa with.

Once the two of them are out of the doors of the abandoned hospital. Dylan crosses his arms in front of him and waits for the nosey kid to start talking, because he just knows it's going to be coming any minute now.

Besa walks a few extra steps before stopping the bike and turning to look at Dylan. Finally he just says, "Would you like to be healed of your bruises?" Sure, he has questions, but that's the most important, right?

Dylan just blinks at Besa for a few seconds. "Healed?" He shakes his head. "It's just bruises… they will heal on their own. Haven't you ever had a black eye?"

Now who's asking questions. But Besa nods, "Yes, but usually when I am attacked, it is more than bruises." He'll leave it at that. Instead he asks this, "Do you need anything?" Which may be the worst thing he can ask, if Dylan's a proud sort.

Well considering the country's general racist outlook, Dylan isn't surprised, "Well, just bruises, really." He sounds mostly confident, cause at least he figures it's just bruises, nothing bleeding at least. The boy purses his lips for a moment, "Yeah, a winning lottery ticket would be nice, think you can arrange that?"

Besa's dark gaze sweeps over the teen again, making sure from what he can see it's just bruises. The two clay coins in his hand are looked at and then slid back into his pocket, "No, I am sorry. I can not." Feeling like maybe this is a lost cause, like most of his endeavors lately he forces a a soft smile. "I am sorry for bothering you." Maybe he'll just go to the woods like he originally planned to meditate.

Dylan shakes his head, "Dude, I was not seriuos… sure winning a million dollars would make life so much easier, but I was not being literal." He reaches into his pockets. He pulls out a handful of assorted wadded up bills, counting momentarily to make sure that he has enough to get dinner. "Well, yeah, thanks to you, I now have to go grab food. Where would you suggest that I can get decent burgers for as cheap as possible?"

Besa stops himself from asking why Dylan would ask for it then. Instead he takes a deep breath. "I think there a McDonalds a few bocks away." That's cheap, right? Cheaper than the fancy burger joint the tourist go to." He already apoiligysed for the inconvenience so he sighs again, "I will leave then."

Dylan asked to keep one of the guys from seeing Besa and beating the shit out of him or worse. He looks at the dejected Besa and shakes his head, "Look, kid, I don't mean anything by it." Kid, he looks younger than Besa does. "And I don't know if this is one of your hangouts or anything.. but if I was you, I'd stay away… for a couple of weeks… We should be gone by then… you could say we're like transient workers…. Then it'll be safe to come back, get high or whatever it is you were planning on doing."

Besa finally frowns again, "Stop calling me kid." He listens, looking almost annoyed, "It's not a hangout. I thought I heard someone in need." There's an actually eyeball roll, "I won't bother you again." Ugh. He starts pushing the bike more, towards the playground.

Okay. Fair enough." Dylan says. "So what do I call you?" Then Besa starts to leave. "No bother, but take care, then. Though that greasy spoon a few blocks away. It any good?" He's referring to the burger joint down the road.
From afar, Ronan wishes people didn't want to go to the stupid Volunteer thing tomorrow for the festival.

Besa turns back, that annoyed expression looking like he doesn't have it n his face very often, "Why do you want to know? You will not see me again." No bother? "You just said I made it so you had to buy burgers for however many people are up there." Make up your mind, nameless guy! And now he wants a food revue? Besa blinks. Few times trying to understand the back and forth, "It is fine. The French fries are good." There, that's helpful, right?

Dylan rolls his eyes. "So I'm a dick, okay? I was trying to get you out of where we're living… the others aren't as friendly as me." He gets it that Besa doesn't want anything thing to do with him. He shoves his hands in his pockdts, "Thanks for that…" He starts walking off towards the diner.

Is that possible? Less friendly would be demons, right? He stands there with bike in hand as Dylan starts headed to the diner and Best will offer, "My name is Besa Ini-Herit. I go to Coral Springs."

Dylan walks with his fingers up to his knuckles in his pockets. "Thanks Besa Ini-Herit. Sorry for being a dick." His arms are kind of pressed up against his sides. "Coral Springs some kind of rich preppy school?" He says over his shoulder.

There's a moment where Besa smirks, "No…it is not a rich school." He kinds thought everyone knew, "It is for students with powers." Studying Dylan and the odd position he's in, "What is your name? Or should I call you kid?"

Dylan smirks, "Tom Sawyer." He shakes his head, "I shit you not. Guess my parents knew that they were going to hate me before I was ever born." He assumes Besa would recognize him like everyone else. He blinks. "Oh.. so I guess it means that you are what some kind of junior crime fighter or something." He tenses up a little bit at the idea.

Besa clearly doesn't get the joke. He nods once, like he's putting the name to memory, "Tom Sawyer." Again not actually getting the comment, "I will be a junior this year, yes." He very much does not look a junior! "I have stopped people with guns before, if that is what you mean….being shot is not advisable." He's so weird. But then he'll add, "I will not stop you, unless you are hurting someone." Hopefully that will calm the teen down, Besa just has bigger things to worry about at this point. Demons, cults, stuff like that.

Dylan chuckles and shakes his head, "I ain't plannin' on hurtin' anyone. I mean, Dude, look at my face. You think I'm really one to hurt someone… and I also have no plan on getting shot either."

"That is true, you see to have taken more hurt than given." Ha! Maybe Besa's feeling a little feisty himself. He stays by his bike watching Tom. "If you get shot and do not die, come ask for me at the school and I will heal you." Besa may end up being the gang's Hotel Artimis by accident. Hey, if it worked for the mobster… "I am sorry to have made things worse Tom, I only went in because I thought I heard someone in pain."

Dylan smirks and shakes his head, "Nah… not worse, just means that I have to go and grab dinner for the guys…" He waves his hand in the direction of Besa as he walks on. "Yeah, I'll keep that in mind, if I ever get shot and don't die." He chuckles. When he makes the next turn, if Besa is following behind, he sees an empty street and no trace of Tom Sawyer.

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