Quoted By:
Then a lot of it. You quickly scramble onto the deck of the ship, trying your best to cover yourself with your hands. Lex comes up right after you, closing the hatch behind him so the chamber below doesn't flood. "Yeah. Don't bother." Only now do you notice that Lex's clothes were already drenched before he came up here. "It's not letting up any time soon. Been like this, like, an hour since you passed out."
"Feh." You lower your arms. No point bothering there. Hopefully the gauze won't get too wet, at least. You zip up the bomber jacket still on you. You're shocked they kept it on you and, well, the fact it's perfectly intact. Benefits of being a PARADIGM, you assume.
Everything is pitch black out here. The storm roaring above you is NOT helping matters. The sky is completely blacked out with only the occasional bits of lightning briefly illuminating the night sky. The only other hints of light on the deck you're on is some sort of bonfire set up by the stern of the ship. Behind that, you can make out the faintest glimpse of the enemy ship you boarded so many hours ago.
With nowhere else you want to visit aside from the enemy ship and wherever the fuck Benedict is, you start slowly heading to the back of the ship, one arm wrapped around Lex's arm to keep your balance. "So." You decide to have some light conversation with him. "You do realize I'm not the only person who needs to take care of myself, right?"
"Yeah? Of course. There's like, what, a billion people living in the City? I mean that's like...statistics. Right?" Lex responds, confusion and exhaustion evident in his tone. He has no idea what you're on about.
[SCHOLAR OF THE CITY] It depends on what census you use but the latest census done by the Head places it closer to 2.4 Billion, with a 10% margin of error.
"No, dumbass. I mean you. You haven't slept at all, have you? I appreciate the help but I can handle myself fine. I have POWERS. You're just...you need to take care of yourself, man." Your words flow out in a half-annoyed, half-concerned mess of syllables. "Don't kill yourself stressing over me. Seriously."
Lex tries his best to laugh off your concern but it's clear what you said resonated with him once you hear the laugh die in his throat. "I know. I just don't know how else to react. This isn't something I'm used to, you know? Actually having a crew." He mulls over his words, trying to get his thoughts in order. "Sure. Been in a syndicate or two. Worked as a body guard for some bars. But I never really had someone I can trust like you."
"Me? Someone you trust?" You sneer. "I respect the flattery."
"Fuck off!" He gently nudges your shoulder. "Seriously though. My life felt like it's actually had a purpose since I started doing these jobs, you know? And without you, all of that disappears. Maybe it's not you specifically but just, I dunno."
"This life I'm living now feels like it matters. Like there's a point. Even if I know these jobs are just for a paycheck."
