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With that aching spot of exposed meat in his chest, Ros felt almost like he could devour an entire mountain of food and it wouldn't be enough. Every breath made him his, and every single time he chewed too hard on that frozen puck, it actually felt worse with every movement he made, all the time. Was that thing just tearing more and more? Ros wanted ... no, he needed more food, soon. Turning the water in the sink of, he stuck his fingers into the hot water and hissed at those cold, frozen excuse…

Food. Right. Ros chirped in retaliation to the question of if he was in the possession of food at home, which he definitely was. Not that he didn't anticipate this to happen sometime soon, but he simply knew that these things were going to happen eventually, when his need for meat and the pangs in his hungering heart became too much. Right now, he would be happy to simply eat anything, he figured, but non of that was full of nourishment for him - he could only deny and delude himself for so long…

He hurried after Nate as beat he could - for now, his body was at least cooperating, but anything after that would probably become a hurdle. How long until his mind failed him? Ros grit his teeth and wondered if he’d even make it to the shower. “Can’t. I would’ve … hah … if I could’ve …”, he replied and shook his head. His magic was already feeble to begin with, but his encounter with Abaddon had sucked it all up and now, he was too tired to even exert the smallest amount of strength to pull it …

“There … was one here. And Abaddon had … hah … one too.”, Ros explained away, leaning onto the wall next to the door to catch his breath for a bit before they left. Right now, right here, it was important to push through, when he was bleary-eyed and beads of sweat dotted his forehead like an ill-begotten rosary, draped over his less than holy cranium. It pounded - the hunger wanted to be let in, or maybe even out. The last time he’d gotten hurt was as a wee creature, with rosy cheeks and childis…

Ragged breathing, peppered with labored wheezing were working in tandem with one another as the threat of passing out was drawing closer. What came first - falling victim to his instincts or to his injury? Ros didn’t know, he just knew that his body ached, burned as if he were being boiled alive and his hands felt cold. Freezing. The inside of his eyeballs itched, terribly. They were the wrong way around. They hurt. He wanted to claw them out. No. “Hm?”, Ros asked, as his name was being question…

Disgusting - which one of them? Ros’ hunger grew, it was much more than he could anticipate at this point, but he knew it was the bloods fault. It dripped from his chest, rivulets stained his clothes and it hurt, it thrummed deep and hot, pulsing so much he thought his heart was the right way around. Hunger crept up in his stomach and his awfully pale face grew even paler - the promise of fresh meat, even when he was feeling awfully sluggish, was killing him, especially when he knew that nothing…

While Ros waited, he wondered if Lilya was ever scared of this goddamn place - it seemed so large an imposing, yet, at the same time, it felt empty in all its vastness. Ros hated it, it was an eyesore and this dress was, if anything, annoying to even have to wear. Why was this stuff so short, and why had Lilya not just given him a pair of pants? Yuck. With all this time on his hands, he just mulled over how he'd best approach this entire scenario - Lilya had rolled it out for him just fine, and …

Roscoe texted Lilya - her work phone, anyway - and told her where he was going now, and that if he wasn't back in time, she might as well show up to give him a hand. The combination of odd, maybe even stupid coincidences that culminated over one another was almost forcibly so brought about by both of their shortsightedness of certain events - while Nathan could never wait, Ros could never really stop. They could have and should have done that together and not by their lonesome, but it seemed as …

Was this all too much? Roscoe knew that he had a hard time controlling his anger, he always had once he had grown sufficiently hungry, yet even overall, he was as vindictive as could be. Why care for others, for roadblocks in an already unsteady path that he had carved out himself and why make it all his problem in the first place? As Nathan disappeared, he'd done so not the first time - he'd rather run from the truth, from the realization that the chill was going to eat through his skin and mus…

"That too, but what does that matter? You'd be rid of her, she'd be in custody and pay for her misdeeds and she'd also be save, you know. It's not like she'll never get out of that cell, and they're quite cushy." It wouldn't reform her, but Ros wouldn't want to get into the details of that. Why care? It wasn't his life, he hadn't picked that path of thievery, of making the wrong choices in the wrong place - not anymore, anyway. Why care about that which once was, when the frost in his bones was …

"You could have just told me, I could've made sure she'd get put into custody and well, kept around, if that's really what you wanted anyway. Like this, it might be safe to assume that's the last time you'll ever see her, dead or alive.", Ros explained the reality away, but Nathan knew as much for sure. They lived in an unforgiving world, one that was like a beast of its own and swallowed those it deemed unfit to live within it whole. That was, at least, until someone brought in some fresh meat,…

"Of course it was.", he replied with a sigh. Too many pieces fell into place too easily, but who was he to say that all of this wouldn't pull its own weight? The sooner they were done, the better it was - actually, even better if they were done right about now, or in a hot minute, and they could wrap this up so he would be left to his own devices again. However, that would still warrant a report and it meant they had to seize the artifact - Ros was in favor of fixing the damage it had wrought, y…

With no immediate response, he went back to work - actual work this time - and let Lilya write her little confession back in her cubicle. What did he care if it was done now or in three hours? As long as she delivered, he would give her enough coin to feed herself for a week, if that’s what she was out for, and yet, knowing that glutton, she was going to waste it all in one night - distasteful, but no wonder when she was constantly overexerting her powers. The reports were all the same; someone …

Lilya made her own set of demands quite clear immediately, and Ros could only agree to them - thankfully, they were childish at best and damning at worst, which only went to show that she had no idea how this type of stuff was supposed to work. Good for him, bad for her, yet a deal was a deal and a meal that cut into Roscoe’s paycheck was fine anyway - she’d have a fancy dinner with his card and he’d have her off his back, besides, she’d also divulge some information to him, which sounded like a…

This was getting more bizarre than anticipated and Ros didn’t know how he felt about it - sure, there was always the odd factor that Nathan changed his mind, or got busy, or involved with some shady stuff judging his line of work. Whatever, then. Not his business and he couldn’t care less about making it his, either. “I’m not walking the distance to your shop everyday and I’m also not in the mood to be teleported there, or I will throw up on your floor.”, he informed Nate; it wasn’t that he mind…

Nathan hadn’t picked up immediately, either. Ros was starting to believe that this guy was either doing this on purpose, to try and get him off his back after all, or something had happened. Sadly, unlike the likes of Nate, he couldn’t just teleport places and he was thankful for that - he’d hurl if he had to do it a second time today. For now, he tossed his coat and shoes off, then put the books, tomes and scripts on the coffee table in front of his sofa and plundered his own fridge for a quick…

Ros didn't like to wax about things he didn't care about - he knew who Nathan meant, but acting like he didn't was probably the smarter of the two choices he could make, hell, messing it up was probably the better idea, even. Sometimes, he liked to level on an even field, to let the other know he wasn't just a bureaucratic nimwit that only cared about where and when he'd ascend the stairs to the next level of his career. There were many things he couldn't care less about in life, and making some…

"And where did I say that- okay, you know what, I don't want to argue about this anymore. We'll figure out what to do with this thing when and if we get it back, and we both know the sooner, the better. Then we don't have to be on each others case anymore either." Which also meant he could go back to his Nathan-less routine, which would suit him quite well. He'd spent the last few years without this man, why would he want him back at his beck and call now? He'd rather eat silver bullet, casing a…

"Maybe because it's safer just about anywhere but a sole persons hands. That thing would be better off destroyed, if I'm honest - and that isn't anything against your profession. An artifact like that, in the wrong hands no less, only causes harm to everyone around it. We both know that to be true.", he reprimanded Nathan once more, and even if the good old mage would probably be against admitting to that, he knew it was the right choice regardless. "No need to get so heated either.", Ros retali…

"And was that ever meant as an insult? I'm simply saying you're sitting on heaps of dangerous stuff, because it's important to you, but you're waiting for a disaster to happen with that. Like birds do." Because they didn't know any better. Ros was never a fan of individuals housing anything, let alone magical artifacts with the prowess to change the world in its entirety - and just now, right here, his own dislike for these things was proven right for a reason. "But to create on that holds up fo…