Location: a trash pile methinks like somewhere around there yes ~ Lakora
One would’ve thought that waking up hungover in a pile of trash would’ve been his greatest problem, but as the time went on, it was very clearly the least of his problems. Evarius had been awake for, what, five minutes? And within these five minutes, a good chunk of his ear had been shot off, he had been manhandled (and not in a good way) after raising his hands in surrender and had his arm sprained or dislocated or whatever—the technicalities didn’t matter to him, either way, his arm hurt badly. Besides the momentary flash of pain from the Selenite’s harsh motion on his arm that skittered across his face, he kept his expression collected, holding onto that small smile like a lifeline. One thing could be said for sure; these people were definitely not a Lakora patrol team.
The one that had sprained his arm shoved him against the wall, the movement shooting a bullet of pain up his arm as well as the general discomfort one would feel if their face was pressed against the cold stone. Even clearly at the disadvantage, he laughed slightly, his eyes flicking to the sound of the voice, though they could only make out a blurry shape in this position. “If you really think that whatever I could do with my hands raised I can’t do with them restrained by you, well, you don’t really know much at all for people who boast about their knowledge.” Evarius didn’t make any sudden moves despite his remark, only let his words settle in the air. He knew that he had no leverage in this situation but he wasn’t about to admit that—no, if he had any semblance of cards to play still, he would be keeping them in his pocket until the time for a perfect draw.
The guy’s attention drifted from him, and so Evarius used this opportunity to properly take in his surroundings, as he hadn’t gotten to since it had been pretty go-go-go once he arose from his slumber. He noticed now that the guard post nearby was empty, the people before him likely having disposed of whoever was unfortunate enough to be on duty. If it weren’t for his past experience with Selenites, he might’ve thought they would just kill him, but no, he knew it was far more likely for him to become their guinea pig to experiment on.
A memory: white tile walls with blinding bright lights beaming down upon him. His arms were restrained but the restraints had no purpose as his arms were nothing but deadweights. Searing pain from a wound on his chest, someone shoving an instrument deeper into his chest cavity. His eyes snapping open, meeting the green eyes he had once loved, that had once loved him…
The tightening of his jaw was one of the only indications of the distress the memory gave him, restrained anger bubbling beneath the surface of his skin. He would not be put through that again.
The guy’s stare was on him again, their eyes meeting as the guy brandished an arm of syringes. Ev could immediately detect the poisonous substance inside one of the syringes, but the other’s contents were unknown to him. He was hoping for them to be cruel enough to choose the poisonous option, but instead, the non-poisonous syringe was the one that was selected, a cruel joke of mercy. With the female Selenite’s comments, a dread settled in the pit of his stomach, as those words were hauntingly familiar. Even if he’d wanted to struggle, do something rash—he was sure that he preferred death over whatever they wanted to do to him—the man holding him was then driving the syringe through his skin, pushing the liquid into his veins. The fogginess from the substance quickly settled over his mind, pulling him into a state of unconsciousness.