Nausea and vibrating limbs, Paris stumbles onto a wooden floor, falling to hands and knees. He chokes back whatever is left in his stomach.
Choke. Scream at the world! Tear the floorboards up. Tell her she's pretty. Choke boy, choke.
Lena and Leon are sitting down at a 4 chair table, discussing the new living situation. "Do you want him to sleep in the same room or do we tie him up and leave him on the couch? Either way, I do not want to be the one who has to untie him first thing in the morning." Lena has her arms folded on the table.
Leon shakes his head. "No, no I think being held as a captive would make him want to run away more."
"The captive can hear you, you know." Paris stands, his limbs feeling asleep.
The house is small with simple decorations, it feels more homely than Paris expected. The kitchen and living room are nearly the same room, only a few feet less of tile than carpet. Down the hall to his right are four doors. He can only assume two beds, a bath, and a closet. A small home for a set of twins.
"What does a starving college student have to do to get some food? Can he leave and run to the store or something? Does he have to fly to get back home?"
Lena huffs silently as she stands. She opens the fridge and grabs leftovers of pasta. She sets it in the microwave and heats it up. As she does, Paris sits on the couch with his bag from the hospital. He grabs his phone out and finds out what he can about where he is at.
Hot pasta is in his face not too long after. He takes it, shyly thanking her for it. He continues to mess around on his phone as Lena sits at the table once again.
Leon takes a sip of water Paris didn't realize was there earlier. "So," Leon suggests, "How about we let him take the pull out and we just trust him not to take off? Misty said he is our responsibility pretty much. And it's not like he really has anywhere to go here."
"What do you mean?" Paris inquires. "Do I really have nowhere to go?"
Nowhere, lost, gone. Never to be found again. We are gone. No one wants us. We are lost.
Lena pulls out a small device and pulls a pin, it turns into the bo-staff from earlier.
Tell her how that makes her attractive. She's so pretty. You want her. We need her.
She had put it away in the midst of his yelling. She uses an end to push herself out of the chair. Next thing Paris knows, the empty bowl of pasta is on the floor and Paris is pushed against the arm of the couch. "You are on a different planet, we help sorry sacks like you. You won't be going back until you are cleaned of this parasite. Abilities to enhance the human species exist. You will learn here in not too long about how this all works. If you don't, that's on you. So shut up and let me and my brother figure out what to do with you. And that haircut." She pulls back and clicks something on the side of the staff. It shrinks back to the pocket sized device and she places it back into her pocket.
She's pretty. We need her. Tear her hair from her head.
Paris nods and carefully picks up the broken bowl from the carpet. Lena had hit it a little too hard. He collects the big pieces and whatever he can of the small. He takes it to the garbage and sets it down carefully so as to not rip the bag. He comes back with a paper towel and covers the area of the floor to avoid.
"I'm going to sit outside for a minute. I promise I won't take off." Paris takes his coat from the back of Leon's chair and digs into the inside pockets. He pulls out two packs of cigarettes and a lighter. "I'll smoke two and come back inside."
He tosses his coat onto the couch and leaves.
Scream! Scream boy, scream! Kick the door, slam it!
Leon sighs and puts his head in his hands on the table. "Lena, you need to tone it down. I understand that we were given a really big task, but you can't try and intimidate him into submission. We literally kidnapped him from a bathroom stall in a grocery store. He probably has a family at home that he would like to go back to."
She opens a portal under the paper towels and ceramic pieces, which fall into the black nothingness. "No, no, you're right. Misty hardly ever gives us tasks. I just don't want you to screw anything up. She really has had a hard time trusting you since we were kids. She is afraid of you turning again and killing someone."
"I don't like being 'gifted' by Garmr! No one wants to turn into a dog that loses its mind after seeing something moving. I don't like being a threat to anyone or everyone. It's already enough that my own twin makes me feel shitty." Leon storms off to his room, closing the door a little harder than intended behind him.
Lena huffs and sits at the table, alone.
Paris closes the door behind him, the warm sun reminds him to roll up his long black sleeves. He looks around and notices how small the cul-de-sac is. A very little neighborhood at the edge of a forest on the north side; a valley on the smaller side full of green and flowering grass on the East side; the house behind him pointed South; and an ocean a few miles West. The area feels small, but homely.
Run. Smoke them all. Gouge your eyes out! Why why why? Lost to this place. Nowhere. We are going to stay here forever. Family is gone. We need to go. I need to sleep, sleep it all away.
He pops a cigarette into his mouth and with shaking hands, he tries to light it. He finally gets it lit and takes a deep breath to calm his nerves. Cedar and oak hints in the air help to calm his nerves.
The voices calm to a single voice instead of several angry and fearful voices in his head. Take a walk. Find the smells from the trees. Eat the cigarette. Stomp it out with your heel.
He can hear Leon raise his voice about something inside. The shouting stops and a door slams closed.
Paris leans back against the door and puffs on his cigarette. He looks up at the clouds, partly cloudy and a very blue sky. It almost looks too blue. They were right, he is on an entirely different planet. How in the hell is he going to get home without Lena's portals?
Lena grabs scissors from a drawer in the kitchen. She holds them by the closed blades, a bag in the other hand. She opens the door and it swings back too fast, Paris knocking his head on the floor.
"Ow, damn that hurt." His cigarette is burned nearly to his lips. He sits up and scoots away from her outside. "What are you doing?"
"I'm coming to cut your hair. Misty supplies everything here, but I don't feel like going into town today. I will not let you go out looking like that either." She sits next to him and opens her bag.
Take the scissors and stab her. She's going to suffocate us. Burn her burn her burn her.
Paris lights his next cigarette and stays as still as he nervously can. Lena trims his hair so it looks less rushed. The excess is wiped into a bag and tied into a knot. "You're not going to send it to the scientists to do all that research about me?"
Lena stands, wiping the few strands of hair from her lap. "No, we did that already when you were asleep. They don't need that much anyway."
Paris sighs in defeat. He inhales the last puff and blows it out. "Well, how long before we find out then?"
Lena opens the door, "At most, two days. They're typically pretty thorough and would want to make sure they can locate the problem. Now, Leon probably has some spare clothes you can borrow." She leaves the door open behind as she goes inside.
He looks down at his half empty packs of cigarettes.