Log:There Will Be More Before It Is Over
Hector's hair has mostly grown out, but otherwise he looks as usual as he pedals up on a black racing bike. He chains it down below, and after some hesitation, approaches Morrison's door to knock. He straightens and does his best to look calm and adult, rather than like a panicky teenager.
Morrison's apartment is a pretty average affair in a pretty standard building, neither a luxury apartment, nor a dump. And when Morrison opens the door, he steps back to let Hector in. It's actually perhaps surprisingly neat. The furniture is mismatched, since it's come from hand me downs from family, but looks comfortable. The decor is somewhat sparse without much in the way of art to speak of. It's got grey carpet and cream walls, pretty standard apartment fare, and a balcony that looks out over a parking lot and little else of interest. He's dressed in a pair of jeans and a plain grey t-shirt, barefoot when he opens the door, apparently not having gotten up that long ago since his hair is still damp and his coffee is still steaming as he holds a mug in one hand. "Hector," he greets, leaving the door open for Hector to close behind him.
Hector peers in a little surprised, but trying not to show it. "This looks... very like what I'd do if i had my own place." He closes the door behind him. He takes a breath, "How much do you know about what's been going on with the... the drug thing since we last talked?"
Morrison looks around and says "Collect random furniture from people who are giving it away and vacuum?" He glances over toward the fridge and says "You want something to drink?" Then he takes a sip from his coffee and says, "That the twins were dumb enough to drink the drugged wine and that Theo's keeping an eye on them since they seemed sick.. not dead, fortunately, but sick... because they're dumbasses. And I recall you mentioning having an aunt who was a cop, and I suggested you talk to her about it."
Hector shakes his head, "Neat, but comfortable. I don't like clutter, but I do like... things that are comfortable and to the purpose. I don;t kow, really. Gah!" He nods, "If you have more coffee, that'd be good." He sighs, "Jesus, it's so muchworse than that. I got Silver to come with me to talk to my Aunt since she had a photograph of the woman with the new drug. Apparently, this Francine lady is hanging out with the Painkillers. My aunt wass going to talk to them, but that evening she called them," he phrases it that way so it's not a lie, even if it gives the wrong impression, "And every single one of them went back. Kids from each of the five families. They all took it again with one exception. Who is still craving it, though not as badly. The others are... have you seen the twins lately? All the ones who took the second dose are really sick: pale, light sensative, sluggish all day, and food tastes like ashes to them. They want it badly. We've been trying to organize to mke sure someone's watching them because we don't know when she'll call again and if they are this drug sick from two doses? Fuck!" He closes his eyes, "and it gets a lot worse and a lot scarier. People have called in multple tips to the local cops and the stateys and we think that's why they came after us."
Morrison wanders into the kitchen and gets down a mug, pouring Hector a cup of coffee and setting out the cream and sugar for him to doctor it as he wants before leaning up against the counter. He lifts the mug and takes a sip as he listens. "So .. this Francine chick called.. all the kids that she drugged? How? How'd she get their numbers? And they all went back for another hit? All of them?" His expression darkens, because that means the twins did, too. "Who came after you? Your message mentioned some chick named Vivian? Who the Hell is Vivian?"
Hector puts a little sugar in, and stirrs it, "All I know is it happened. I may be a risk taker, but I'm not that kind of..." He decides to not insult Morrison's relatives and his own, "They went. Every single one of them. Apparently it's a really powerul high, hard to say no to once you've tried it. They threatened Cash as he went. They had a woman named Brenda in a steamer trunk. The Painkillers dismembered her while high on that stuff. Here my witnesses were all high too, but they saw the same thing and the woman is for real missing. We think the reason the Painkillers came after us is they assumed Cash was the one trying to get the cops interested since he turned down another hit." He looks at Morrison eyes wiide with the horror of it, "They hunted us on motercycles. They tried to take Cash's head off and they came at my face with the chain. Francine threatened to kill everyone we care about if we keep trying to involve the police. We thought she'd killed Vivian, the woman we wwere staying with, but it turned out that part was fake. It was dark and we were running for our lives through the tombstones. I figure it was some sort of realistic special effects type head made more so my the darkness. It's why I can stay at home or the place I'd lined up. I figure they won't kill every one who works for a motel if we stay there, they'll just kill us. The police have failed us.
"Dumbass," Morrison supplies. He already called the twins dumbasses for doing it. He hasn't changed his mind on that count at all. "I knew Brenda was missing. The Police questioned Theodore." Because she was his PA and supposedly future wife according to her, anyway. "You're sure it wasn't some other hoax just to scare the shit out of everyone, like the fake head?" He experiences a momentary sort of deja vu regarding a fake head, but can't figure out why. Then, shrugging his shoulders, he lets that go, instead focusing on the more immediate problem. "So, you've got a pissed off biker gang after you for not taking their drugs that they've got everyone hooked on. And that's why you needed the motel room." He folds his arms and says, "We're going to have to put the twins in detox and lock them down til this shit is out of their system." He sighs, "I've got to call Theodore. Amy hasn't done this shit, has she?"
Hector sighs, "Dumbasses." He looks him in the eyes, "Brenda is still missing and the only reason cash still has a head is because he ducked. I'm pretty sure if I hadn't been fast, my face would be a mess right now. In my place, would you be taking every precaution in case it's real, of would you be risking your family?" He looks wildly relieved at the talk of detox, "Not Amy. She doesn't believe any of it, and I have it from two witnesses she wasn't there. Look, I don't know if they have the cops bribed or snowed, but at this point we're basically trying to talk people into a buddy system for the ones who took the drugs and just generally staying inside at night, but really? No one can force people to be sensible and it's pretty clear help isn't coming from the authorities. You're about the only one likely to even listen, I think."
"I meant are you sure the whole dismembering thing wasn't a hoax, since you said everyone was high, and the Vivian thing was a hoax," Morrison clarifies. "I think staying at the hotel if you've got bikers chasing you and trying to take off your head is probably a smart thing to do. I was just making sure I understood the situation correctly." He takes another swallow of his coffee, then, and says, "Though I'm not sure what you want me to do about it. You can stay in hte hotel until it blows over. I'm going to probably have the twins put on lockdown, or make Amy sit on them. Probably both. But I'm not fucking Batman, Hector. I'm a boxer, not a bloody Defender. Do you think I'm going to go out and beat up an entire biker gang on my own? A trio of frat bros in a bar who have had a few too many is one thing. Bikers with chains and shit is a whole other ballgame."
Hector sips his coffe, contemplating that, "I wasn't there, but it'd be weird if a woman they all say was dismembered randomly turned up missing the next day and nothing bad happened to her. There was a live person in a trunk before anyone took drugs. I mean theoretically, they could have kidnapped her and faked a realistic dismemberment?" Another sip, "Just... if you guys decide to go looking yourselves, best to go in the day if they're all on it. All the people at my school who did are tired and light sensative and not wantig to be up until it's dark unless somehing like school requires them too. It might be they'll be less... PCP or meth head crazy violet if you catch them nodding." He sighs his relief, "No, I don't think you are Punisher or Lobo eiher. I just... Jesus fuck! Nothing like this shit ever happened to me in california and it's been very... Sisyphus with his rock trying to get anyone to take any of this seriously except well... my siblings. And maybe Ashley Freeland. Like, we may have to literally sit on people to keep them from gong back." He looks at Morrison eyes wide, "And if they do kill me, I'd kind of like someone to know why, okay?"
"So you're telling me a bunch of kids stood around and watched somebody get /actually/ dismembered and then thought, hey, that was kinda bad but let's hang out and get high anyway?" Morrison asks, again, in that same even tone as though he's trying to make some logical sense of this situation out of what limited information he's been given. Then he says, "Look, you're not going to die. Nobody knows you're at the Hotel right now, right? Other than me? Or did you tell anyone else?" He takes another swallow from his coffee.
Hector shakes his head, "They knew there was someone in a trunk, but they wanted the drug, so they took it anyway. Except Cash, who sensibly freaked out about the whole Lady in a trunk and drug situation and ran away to find me. Everyone else took it and then watched the dismembering. It's why person in a trunk is the verified pert. They were already messed up when shit got scary violent. Only Cash and you know where I'm staying and that's because I am damned if I'm letting them lure him out a third time. I really will pin him if I have to, but I'm going to try to keep him safe. My sibs are supposed to be watching my other sibs. It's like herding cats though, really."
"So wait.. if you weren't there, and Cash wasn't there, who told you that someone got dismembered?" Morrison asks, one brow raised as he tries to pull the whole of the story out. "Make sure he keeps his fucking mouth shut, too," Morrison warns Hector when he says that Cash knows where he is.
Hector says, "Some of the other people who stayed." He sighs, "Cash is terrified. He's done trying to talk to the police, and he's definately not talking about where we're hiding since they are after him too. My concern is, they'll keep pushing this stuff, and people will keep going back and the... symptoms of withdraw will getworse. My concern is that I'l bedodging drugged out violet bikers until I graduate and can get us the fuck out of here.
"Well, hate to break it to you, but dodging violent bikers til you graduate may be a side-effect of hooking up with a guy who got messed up with violent bikers in the first place," Morrison points out from where he leans against the counter, setting the now empty mug down and folding his arms in front of him. "And yeah, that's a valid concern, so those who are on the shit need to be detoxed. So all of that shit's out of their systems."
Hector sighs and nods, "He can be gulible." He straightens, "I gave my word to him and I'm keeping it to my last breath. I take my promises seriously." He has a last mouthful and sets his cup down, "It takes a long time for the cravings to stop. The first dose was end of february and Cash still wants it even though he hasn't had more and the side effects are noticeably improved. Fuck if I know how long it's going to be for the rest of them. Thank you for listening, Morrison. I'm doing my damnedest but sometimes it feels like I'm the only one who..." He shakes his head, "Nevermind."
"Don't get yourself killed," is all Morrison has to say about him keeping his word to his last breath. "You're not doing anyone any good dead." He nods as Hector describes how long the symptoms last and says, "Well inpatient is an option, too, if necessary. That'll suck for them, but that's why I stick to getting in fights and don't do drugs." He studies Hector and says, "I'll talk to the Detective I met, see if I can find out what's going on with the cops, and see if anything's being done about these Painkillers."
Hector is firm about this, "I want to live very much." He looks sheepish, "I admit to a joint now and then, but no way am I ever taking anything I can take or leave. This is definately in the bad shit category." He lifts his chin, "I apprecite this. you listening; you checking around. I know I'm not exactly your favorite person, but you always took me seriously and I'm a Thistle. I'm starting to understand what that means in this town. My reach only goes so far and there are people I'm worried about I barely know.... Oh, Squid wasn't there either. At either of the parties, in case you're worried. Oh, and if you can keep our names out of things, it'd be best. We're in enough trouble already."
Morrison watches Hector from where he stands on the opposite side of the small kitchen, and slides his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "Listen, you've caused some shit for me. There's people out there who are still comparing me to a pedophile, and I really have no desire to get wrapped up in any shit involving your new boyfriend. But.." He pulls away from the counter then and moves over to stand in front of Hector, "I do not want to see you decapitated by a biker gang. Or hooked on some crazy fucked up drugs. And I never gave two shits who your family was. That has exactly zero to do with anything."
Hector looks up at him and says softly, "I never cared who your family was either and I've been trying to stop people calling you that. I hate it. I hate that they... I'm an adult, you're an adult. It's none of there business. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I was a shit to you that day in the park."
"You're right. It's nobody's business but ours," Morrison says, but then shrugs his shoulders. "I'll deal with the fallout. It is what it is." That it bothers him is clear regardless of what he says, but it seems he's accepted that he's going to be dealing with that for some time, one way or another. People like a good scandal, whether it's legit or not. He studies Hector's features for a couple more moments, and then steps back and away.
Hector's look is steady. He doesn't move away, "I've made a lot of mistakes this past year. In retrospect, I don' think you were one of them even though it felt like that for a while." He sets the empty cup down, "We can pay for the room, by the way. Mostly, I just wanted to know we had somewhere to run to. Somewhere that didn't endanger anyone."
"You can pay for the room if you want. It's in my name. But if you want to pay them in cash, I doubt they'll complain. It'll go on my credit card unless paid otherwise," Morrison says. "Which could start a whole new set of rumors about me paying for a hotel room that you and your boy are hanging out in. So, keep it discrete, alright? I've got enough problems at the moment." And yet, he's still doing it anyway.
Hector nods, "We have cash and I plan to keep it discrete. I don't want to bring anymore trouble to your door. You're a stand up guy, and I mean that."
Morrison snorts and shakes his head, "Hardly. Just a bad habit of making poor life choices as well as being one."
Dare smiles crookedly, "We always were a little more alike than people would think." He takes a breath, "So how are you doing? I should have asked before piling the crazy on your kitchen floor."
"What, and break with tradition?" Morrison asks with an arched eyebrow as he reclaims his spot against the counter. "Other than all this shit," he says, waving as though to indicate the Painkillers, the drugs, the twins' involvement, the needing a hotel room, etc.. "I'm fine. Peachy, even. I've been drinking at the Kokomo. Fewer kids busting in and starting bar fights when I'm trying to wind down."
Hector snorts at the 'break with tradition,' too self aware not to take the point. He cracks a quick smile, "In my defense, I just wanted a quiet beer. It was Amy wanting a fight."
"I didn't specify which kid in particular," Morrison says, more than aware that Amy came in with the intent of starting some shit. He'd borne witness to all of the shenanigans once they'd ensued, after all. "Next time you want to get a quiet beer, pick a back booth far away from the windows, more in the shadows. Amy might find you anyway, but at least you can make her work for it."
Hector laughs softly, "I think it's going to be all right. I've reason to think her... romantic life is improving, which will render my face less attractive to her fist." He thinks it over, "I think I'll be avoiding bars for a while. I mostly just want to get through this term without anymore blood and tears and drama."
"I'm pretty sure just having a face at all makes it attractive to Amy for punching on most days," Morrison points out with a smile that is a bit on the wolfish side, too many teeth, before it subsides once more. "You should probably also embrace the fact that there's going to be more blood, tears, and drama before everything is said and done. Just gotta choose which ones are the lesser evils, or are worth it."
Hector returns the smile, but more rueful than feral, fading fast at the second part, "I have, but that doesn't stop me trying." The intimacy of the smoke in the dark is lost it seems. "Thank you. I mean it. For everything."
"I know you do," Morrison says in reply, and then pushes away from the counter and starts to head off down the hall. "Close the door when you go," he says over his shoulder.
Hector tries not to look as he lats himself out.