Carter Hall could not sleep. His eyes were closed, so tightly that pinpricks of light burst out of the dark and assaulted his vision, but his mind would not rest. From his room, several floors above New Angeles’ academy, he could hear kids yelling to one another as they were rounded up to serve their detentions. He had wrapped his head in his jacket, but somehow he could still hear the mesh of voices flowing through the thick floors. Hardly able to stand it, Carter shot up, but a sharp pain racing through his head didn’t let him stand. He sat back, looking around his familiar office:

A dark wood desk, piled with papers and books and a candle halfway burned. Bookshelves lined the walls behind it from floor to ceiling, some of which were filled with his tiny script depicting what he was told the surface world looked like before the Fall. His great-grandfather had told him stories passed down, about air and endless views, sunlight, natural grass and trees and fragrant flowers that grow as they please. Carter wanted to see them. He wanted to see the sun, he wanted to feel fresh air and smell the earth his great grandfather told him about. He dreamed about it, about a clear world full of life. Carter sighed. His hair was in his face, but he didn’t care. It was a veil of straight, light golden-brown, and the rest of it was tied tightly with a black tie. His pale green eyes were shadowed, tired. Behind rectangular glasses, they were slightly magnified.

He slid forward, resting his pounding head in his hand. His last class had been full of monsters, but older kids were often like that. High on life, or other things, and unwilling to stay seated. Carter preferred the younger ones, who especially loved his stories and lessons and absorbed what they heard. But they had just as much energy as the older kids, and after a week of shouting and calming tactics, Carter’s voice was spent and a bit raspy. He always took to his office above the classrooms to sleep off the day’s headaches, but today he was oddly aware of every sound on the floors below. He glanced to the wardrobe to his right, nestled in a corner of the room, contemplating changing clothes before leaving.

The white buttondown shirt appeared to be slightly too large for him, wrinkled as though he had scrounged it up from the bottom of the closet floor. He had rolled the sleeves part of the way up. His black pants were almost as wrinkled, but not quite as oversized as his shirt. He had taken off his shoes, black ones with silver buckles, and they rested on the rug beside him. It was an old one, the rug, faded brown and red, braided around the edges in gold, covering most of the old dark wood floor. It muffled footsteps, quieted the loudness of voices. If only that were the case downstairs. Frustrated, tired, Carter loosened his red tie and slid back into his shoes. If he was unable to block out the sounds of life in his office, he would go somewhere he could.

Out of the office, locking the door, across the hall, down the stairs, through another hall, and down the main stairs, he left the school behind. Somehow leaving the school only made his headache worse. Voices were magnified, every sound bouncing in his skull and only getting worse. He kept his eyes to the ground, watching his feet as he walked, avoiding the bulk of people. It bothered him that he couldn’t tune the world out as he did so often. Everything was so strident, and when he pressed his hands over his ears, his heart beat thumped and his blood rushed like the river somewhere nearby but five times louder. Carter was almost at a loss for what to do. All he wanted was silence, a simple request, but in New Angeles, silence seemed only to come with death. When he heard the dull music he had to look up. Without realizing it, he had wandered into the western area of New Angeles, where the low-brow hangouts were situated. He crossed the road and vanished into an alley. The shortcut would take him away from the noise, and most of the people.

Through the drip of condensation off the roofs rising high on either side of him, Carter heard the pat of flat feet trying to fall in step with his stride. Someone was following him. It was someone with a cold or something, he though, because his breaths were a bit hoarse. The flick of metal against metal clinked against his eardrum, and the footfalls became louder. They were fast, approaching quickly. Carter stopped.

He brought his elbow back as hard as he could, connecting with something soft. A grunt of pain escaped the stalker‘s throat, and Carter turned with a closed fist; he swung with purpose. It coupled with the hooked nose on the would-be mugger’s square face and threw him back. Carter stepped forward and kicked him, the blow landing square in the center of his chest and knocking him to the ground. Before the filthy man could regain his composure and stand, Carter pressed his foot down, keeping him there and pulling a blade from his pocket. With a press of a small lever below the hilt, the blade expanded twenty inches. Carter bent down, pressing the blade to the scrounge’s neck, and grabbing the knife from his open hand. Pocketing it, he lifted his foot and backed several paces away, holding the blade aloft in front of him. The mugger sat up, but didn’t move. His eyes--one had a milky film over it--were wide and glaring, both worried and angry. Carter stepped down the alley backwards, with one hand behind him feeling for obstacles. Coming out of the shadow of the two clubs, he turned and stepped onto the past stretching beside the river.

Retracting the blade and sliding it back into his pocket, Carter took to watching the river. It was swift, but not too huge and not terribly powerful. But a little ways away from New Angeles was a small area of rocks and moss, making a bit of a crevice that blocked out the noise of the city and was good for escaping the pains of life. Carter moved along the length of the river, watching it without paying much attention to where his feet went. He had walked the path many times. The water was calming, but oddly loud. Louder than the other day as it competed with the noise of the bars and clubs on the other side.

Carter let his mind wander, and stared at the unknown area of the cavern. The area beyond the river was black, always black, always so strange and mysterious. No one was allowed over there, and Carter didn’t know why. He wanted to know why, but there was no way across the river except to swim it. But strange creatures were under the water; creatures that would only drag a straggler under if they were to touch the finicky things. Of course, it could all be made up to stop adventurous minds from wandering outside New Angeles. No one has ever seen the creatures, and Carter couldn’t find any evidence of them written in his books. But the stories of their attacks were gruesome. He hardly believed they existed, but he didn’t want to be proven wrong.

It was really an average day. Adrian thought to himself, glancing around. There was a barely clad female, and a rather pudgy male laying on their backs. The fluffy comforter on the bed had various shades staining them, all body fluids. "You should have paid the money...really...you could afford her...but not the loan?" His voice was rough, from lack of use. He rarely spoke, except to the dead. It was far far easier to talk to the expired. They didn't talk back. The male's dark brown hair waved as he stood, his hairstyle quite fashionable with the older children in their Underworld. For Adrian La'Arc, it was just easier to chop off the long pieces with a knife. His emerald eyes took in the room, checking for anything he may have missed. After all, his was supposed to locate the money. Their color was piercing and there didn't seem to be anything wrong with him, but the room was rather dark, and he still had dark sunglasses covering his eyes. Even with all this protection, his eyes seemed to water and leak, and his head throbbed. He wasn't sure why but light was stinging his eyes more and more. But, a normal freelance detective didn't have insurance. And so he couldn't show up waving cash around a hospital. He'd see an eye clinic soon. Hopefully.

The tiny bud in his ear crackled to life. "I told you he was there...Didya find him? Addy...come on...you need to hurry it up...." The female's voice whined to him. The emerald eyes rolled behind the think lenses, and Adrian reached up, pressing a button on the tiny item. There was nothing in his ear now, pure lovely silence.

Luckily, the hotel the man had selected had rooms on the outside. There was a cart below, and, with the ragged clothes Adrian wore, he'd fit right in as a delivery boy, tugging his cart along. Once Addy had opened the man's wallet, and looked it over, it was pretty clear he hadn't even intended to pay the hooker. Adrian cursed. Without the money, they would be no payday for him either.

He tucked the wallet into his own pocket, after removing any identifying items. The male's identification and watch, as well as a tiny card with the man's house address. He paused, glancing at the script, asking to return the wallet to the listed location. It was perfect. He knew the area. It was by the waterfront. Adrian would take the bodies there, hidden in the cart, and shove them into the water. There were some horrible creatures in there, so no one tried to swim, and most people just flat out avoided the underground lake. He'd leave the cart too, before searching the male's house.

He hesitated, peeking out the door and glancing around quickly. While the other side of the motel was fairly busy, this side was almost deserted, and the walkway above this level provided some shade, hiding Adrian further with shadows. The tall form moved into the light, then recoiled quickly, grunting. He ripped the sunglasses from his face, and pressed a gloved hand to his eyes, rubbing. There was very little natural light, however, the humans living underground had erected their own lights, and so it was still awfully bright. To his sensitive eyes, it was like a red hot poker had nudged his orbs.

After a moment of blinding pain, Adrian straightened once again. He forced himself to peer around again, double checking the area for any stray people wandering the streets. He tugged the lightweight cart to the door, quickly spreading the strange white melons aside. He'd been told long ago that this fruit had been dark green, with stripes of lighter green. Growing underground, with false light, and the cold water hydroponics system used, it had faded, and was now more of a cream color. The seeds inside were dark black, and although the melons didn't have much of a taste, children loved to munch on them, spitting the seeds in the streets as they moved. He'd done the same with his own sister...

Adrian shook his head. Why was he so scatter brained today? Normally he was rather focused. He sighed softly, and headed inside. Within a few moments, both bodies were loaded. Adrian piled the White-a-melons back into the cart, and covered it all with a tarp. The tarps were common, so it shouldn't attract attention. Everyone used them, in case of falling dust from about, or spilled fluids in the streets. He shut the door after a last quick scan of the room. Everything seemed to be fine. Someone would know a murder had happened, from the drying blood spilled on the sheets. But they wouldn't know who or why. It was part of Adrian's job to keep it that way.

He straightened the cap on his head-also meant to help keep the bright light away from his eyes, it's wide brim sticking out all the way around. With another soft grunt, he grabbed the handles and lifted the cart. The assassin set off at a quick walk, weaving through traffic carefully.

It didn't take long to reach the water, since he knew various shortcuts. The water, while scary, was rather calming, and he'd visited it often when younger. The path next to it, however, was rocky and bumpy, rarely used, and so rarely cleared. It took a bit longer than expected to tug the cart over the ground. The male peered around, squinting. He'd definitely need his eyes checked soon. His eyes couldn't adjust to the darkness, and it felt like Adrian was blind. He couldn't see any shadows moving, however, and heard no footfalls, so he must be alone. He jerked the tarp up, being as quiet as possible with the rough weed cloth. He tugged off a few white-a-melons, setting them next to the cart. After grunting and tugging a bit, he finally got the female off the cart, and glanced down. This spot was about four feet about the level of water, though from the rock he dropped into it, it was still plenty deep. Adrian knelt, stuffing rocks into the woman's shirt and pants. A bit of twine was ripped from the tarp, and tied so the rocks could not be pushed out by the natural movement of the water. The man was harder, but eventually, he too was pushed into the water with a 'plop'. Panting softly, Adrian peered over, nodding once it seemed like both bodies had sunken below the surface. He reached up ad flicked the earpiece on, looking around again. He spoke while he reloaded the white-a-melons. He'd need them for the delivery front he would use when he located the man's house. Plus Celeste would love it if he showed at home with one of the delicious fruits.

Adrian spoke into the earpiece when it began to whir. "Target found, eliminated. Item...no go...456 D-Underground. Waterfront district, street Alpha Echo Uniform. Heading their now for the Item." A female voice cut in once again, although Adrian clicked the earpiece off once again cutting Ce-Ce's words short. Feeling rather tired, and his eyes burning painfully, Addy pushed on, glancing at the houses as he passed, looking for the address.


(-pant, pant- I hope it's not too boring. I'm kinda proud of myself too! hehe!)

Carter put his hands over his ears again. When he canceled out the sound of rushing water, all he could hear was a strange roaring and beating of his heart. He couldn’t get away from it, the noise, constant noise, raking through his head. But he was back in a suburb-based area of New Angeles, where houses stood near the waterfront. He stayed closer to the water than to the houses; people were still loud and in their fenced-in yard of genetically-altered grass carpeting. Each blade was a pale, dusty gray, but thick and resilient and rather springy when walked on.

He looked down at the water to his right. It was rushing along, as usual, but in the near-dark, he thought he could see a bit of iridescent blue-green glowing being swept along the shore. He bent down, crouching on the wet stone that made up the shore of the river itself, and looked a little closer. There weren’t discernible forms making up the odd glow, and as he hovered his hand above the water, something exploded through his head. A noise, two somethings, large as it fell into the water. It startled him so badly he stumbled back and fell on the hard ground, grimacing at the pain in both his head and backside.

Usually large bits of stone tended to fall from the ceiling, which wasn’t quite as high above the river as above the rest of the cavern. Because the condensation here was so much greater, he eroded the stone a bit more, and weaker spots fell, splashing into the water. But in Carter’s overly-sensitive ears, it was more like a bomb going off not ten feet from him. Shaking away the shock, he went back to the river and looked into the water again. Carefully, he put his hand in the water, cold and shocking, and in an instant a swirling cloud of the same glowing substance took over the dark water. Jerking his hand back, Carter stared at it, shocked. His hand was glowing similarly, only much brighter in the dimness. He kept calm, however, and his teacher instinct came out. Easily, he put his hand back into the water.

Again the color burst forth, swept away in the water. It was coming from his hand, Carter realized, when he brought it back and raked his palm over the ground beside him. Coming from his skin, the glow. From his pocket, Carter pulled a clear vial out with his other hand and scooped a handful of water up. It turned once more, a small puddle of bright green-blue, which he poured into the vial and plugged. He stood, stowing it in his pocket and turning. Before he could move, however, he heard something beyond the loud roar of the river, the quickened beating of his heart, and the bats high above. Footsteps.

Adrian thoughts were running ahead of himself, never a good thing. Typically, he wasn't a 'what if' guy, but now he was wondering about the money. What if it wasn't at the man's house? What if he kept it in a bank somewhere?

His thoughts were interrupted as he wrenched the cart over a rock. The white-a-melons tumbled from the back. Adrian cursed softly, and stepped around to the back, tossing the fruits back unto his cart. He tugged the tarp down, tying it better. as he was doing this, a shadow moved far to his right. Adrian paused, glancing over at the movement. His sight was finally adjusting, because instead of just a shadow, he could make out blond hair and the glint of glasses, lifting from kneeling.

The man didn't act like he'd seen the dumping of two bodies. But why would someone be bending over the water? The river filled with deadly creatures? Kind of strange. Adrian hesitated, glancing to his cart. Only one way to find out. And what better guise? "Oi!" Adrian called out, tugging the cart around and stepping closer to the river, once again. "Oi...I've got some fresh white-a-melons I need to sell...You wanna buy? Cheap." Adrian smiled, though behind his glasses, he was peering over the boy, checking for signs of nervousness.

Carter gasped at the voice. Not because he was shocked someone else was there, but because it was loud. From the water, to the stone walls and ground, to the houses and their flat walls, the voice, and the sound of a cart rattling, sounded as though it was magnified a hundred times over. Shaking his head, he stepped up to the same level as the voice. Focusing, he could only see an outline, but when he squinted through his glasses, he could make out a figure. A face that seemed a bit younger, older clothes, and a cart full of what he could confirm were the round, white melons.

He put a hand to his head, trying to scare away the headache. “Er, no... no thanks.” He was probably speaking in a very low tone, but it sounded more than loud enough in Carter’s own ears. “I don’t... don’t really like ‘em, sorry.” He squinted a little more, able to see discerning features. What was most striking were the glasses. Sunglasses, as he was told by his grandfather when he was young. They protected the eyes from bright lights. But nowhere in New Angeles, or all of the Underground, was terribly bright, especially right beside the river. “Interesting you’d have to protect your eyes from a place of no light.” He continued. Carter felt there was a link between the splashing in the river and this young man standing with a cart. The splashes were loud, heavier than a few of those white melons falling from the car and rolling in. And with the stories of creatures lurking in the deeper areas of the river, it was the perfect place to get rid of evidence. Be it a crime, thievery, murder...

“Never see anyone around here often.” He went on. “In fact... ever. People are usually too afraid of the stories to come so close to the river.” He put his hand in his other pocket, where rested his blade. He wrapped his hand around the handle, placing his thumb on the lever below the hilt. Whoever this young man was, he wasn’t someone to take lightly.

The male gasped and seemed to recoil slightly, making Adrian's watering eyes narrow slightly. While Addy could see the hair shifting as the male shook his head, he was having trouble seeing features. His thoughts once again got carried away, and briefly, he wondered why is was so easy to see each strand of hair, as opposed to the general whole most people focused on.

He shook his head, the male bringing him back to the present. "Maybe I'm just blind." He finally answered. After all, that's the only other time he'd seen people wearing these, and then, it was usually higher class people. Perhaps it attracted too much attention, however, it was necessary lately. "And poured my life savings into them." Adrian stated softly. He barely moved his head, instinctively glancing around behind the thick shades. The other man's tone held something new, a wariness.

"I have a delivery for some of these...Can't find the address." He lied, thinking quickly, though Addy's thoughts were drifting to his own weapon. "I heard you over here...and wanted to know if you could help a poor unfortunate soul find the home?" He could either take care of him without fear of being spotted if he'd seen anything, or just get the address and go about his business.

Carter didn’t quite believe he was blind. No blind man or woman drifted from the streets, or at least, so close to the river. And he only saw higher-class citizens or those with a good amount of money with darkly-tinted glasses on. He couldn’t bring himself to believe that someone like the one standing before him would have enough money, be it life-savings or no, to be able to buy them. Most who couldn’t just wrapped a tie or strip of thick cloth over their eyes. What really caught him off guard was that the other man noted the delivery.

“If they’re for a delivery, you wouldn’t have tried to sell one to me.” Carter noted definitely. But as he spoke, something was beating in his ears. It wasn’t his own heart, because it was calm, waiting for action. It was quicker, but very similar to the sound of a beating heart. It took a moment to realize that this was the sound of the other man’s racing heart. He was lying.

“Don’t insult my intelligence.” Carter growled. “You don’t have a delivery. For all I know you... oh, dumped a couple loads of stolen items or, more believably, a couple bodies? I just won’t believe you’re not much more than a delivery boy. You wouldn’t be behind the houses, you’d be on the road in front of them. And you’re not blind, because you saw me. You were studying me.” He turned his pocketed hand away from the one in front of him. “How about we don’t lie, eh? What are you really doing here? Or did I already guess right?”

For a few seconds, Adrian was nice and composed, weighing his options. He could continue to try and lie, however, it was clear this man wasn't going to believe him. So, it meant he'd need to eliminate him as well, otherwise, Adrian risked being caught, especially now that this stranger had seen him.

He shrugged. "I could have extra from a delivery...and maybe I just heard you. Anyway...you should have just said no, and kept walking." As he spoke, his own hand was inching to his back pocket. Normally he would use the gun tucked into his jacket, however, the smell lingered for a long long time here, as there was barely any wind to blow it away. Plus, he'd had to connect the silencer, and he didn't have time for that, so his own switchblade would have to do. He took out the item, sliding it open, and finally bringing his knife in front of him, lunging at the other male.

He heard it first. A noise like the rustling of bat wings, but it was the cloth of the one standing not ten feet from him. The words were ominous, and alerted Carter far faster than the movement of the younger man. He leapt backward, pulling his blade and extending it, spinning and putting his foot out where he was a moment ago, which made his would-be attacker stumble. Bringing his foot up, he kicked the young man down and put his knee on top of him, pressing him into the ground and grabbing his hair.

With the extended blade at his attacker’s neck, Carter leaned close. “Careful now. Just because I look meek doesn’t mean I don’t live like you. I heard every move you made. I heard your heart racing as you lied to me. Why, I don’t know, but I know one thing: If I ever told anyone what I saw, or, more realistically, assumed, I’d be ratting myself out just as well as you.”

He put the blade tip-down on the ground beside them. “I’d rather not fight. You wouldn’t have seen me if you were anyone else. It’s far too dark to even have noticed someone else was near. Pray tell, who are you really? A hit-man? Assassin? Or am I right both ways? Either way, to kill me when I won’t fight you is a coward’s move. I’ll let you up, if you tell me who you are. More desirable, I’d like to know that I’m right in guessing you’re here not to innocently deliver fruit.” He eased up a bit, but kept his hand tightly gripped around the blade of his knife. Others were so quick to assume he was easy to overpower, easy to beat and leave confused and lightheaded. He didn’t doubt this attacker felt the very same way.

Before he could think, La'Arc was on the ground, the man's knee digging into his backpainfully, a knife pressed against his throat. He hadn't seen this coming at all. He'd underestimated the nerdy male with glasses.

It took a moment, but the man's words sunk into his head. He was talking about hearing things...like his heart and clothes? That didn't make sense, no one had that good of hearing. Then again, once his eyes adjusted to the changing light, he could see various things, like the dust floating in the air, or a mouse fifty feet away.

Pushing these thoughts from his mind, Adrian shoved the knife from his throat, jerking his body to flip, before grabbing both of the man's hands. "What I do is none of your business. Yes, I saw you." He growled softly. "And you'll let me up whether or not you want to. I'd suggest you do it and walk calmly away, before forgetting you ever met me."

Carter gritted his teeth, allowing himself to be moved. However, he didn’t like what the other voice had to say. He also didn’t like how loud it was. He moved back, standing but keeping the man pinned, this time with one foot on his chest and the knife at the base of his neck. “I don’t like that option.” He muttered. “I don’t like you being here. I don’t trust the fact that you’re here at all. Right now, I’m the god of your world. I’ll decide whether you get up or not. And I just want to know one thing: What the hell are you really here for?”

He kept his hand tight around the handle of his knife, making sure that if the one below him even dared move offensively, he could retaliate immediately. Others certainly placed him at such low standards considering his appearance and occupation. Sometimes he loved that. “Your sight must be massively altered, like my hearing, right? It’s sensitive, powerful, nearly to the point of being unbearable, right? That’s how you can see me. That’s how I could hear you.” He narrowed his eyes. In this dark, he couldn’t make out much more than the outline of the man below his buckled shoe.

Adrian couldn't help the snort that lifted from him, or the sneer in his voice as he spoke. "You think you are my god? What happens if I'm atheist, huh?" He wasn't going to simply give in an announce his true profession, after all. And besides, he doubted this male would actually hurt him. And even if he did, well, to be honest it was fine either way.

As the male continued to speak, however, Adrian did listen closely. "Your hearing?" He echoed, his eyes narrowing from behind the glasses. It was true, though. From how the male spoke, he knew about this, however he didn't know how to fix it. That was obvious, otherwise he would have fixed his hearing. "Yeah, maybe I'm seeing better. why does it matter?" His curious nature betrayed him with that sentance, though.

Carter couldn’t even answer the man. His comment was incredibly stupid, in Carter’s opinion. Atheism didn’t really matter if the ultimate bearer of one’s life and death stood directly over him with a knife in his neck.

However, despite his miserable day and agitated feeling at being lied to and attacked in less than several minutes, Carter had to grin. He knew, somehow, that the one below him could see it. “Obviously it matters or I wouldn’t have brought it up.” He said at last. “Recently I’ve come to be the owner of a book describing a type of bacteria that, after a certain amount of exposure, will alter one of the person’s five senses. It comes from the surface, having seeped into the ground through rain cycles over the years. It’s not quite known what happens to someone after a certain amount of time living with this enhanced sense. But if my research is right it’ll continue to enhance your sight and my hearing to uncontrollable, unbearable states. It may blind you, and it may deafen me.”

At that, Carter removed his foot from the man’s chest and retracted his blade. He had to put his faith into him, however, trusting him not to retaliate as Carter extended a hand in apology. “I may be able to pinpoint exactly what the cause is. But I’ll not be able to do it on my own.”

Adrian listened with his characteristic silence. Blind? He had no idea how he could support Ce-Ce and himself while blind. "A bacteria? Shouldn't there be some kind of medicine we could take then?" Much of it was lost, but new ones had been introduced as well.

After thinking it over, Adrian gripped the male's extended hand, pulling himself up. "When someone says that, it always means they want that person's help..." He commented with a tiny sigh, brushing his clothes off. "What makes you think I could help with all this? I'm not a scientist, and I don't know anything about this bacteria. Is you're expecting me to be a test subject, the answer is no..."

Carter shook his head, oddly patient for the situation he had let himself fall into. “No medicine.” He said shortly. “This came from the surface, it’s nothing you’d be able to take a pill or shot for and be fine the next day.”

So, the stranger wasn’t as thick-headed as Carter thought. “Sure.” He said. “I don’t want a test subject, specifically. Just lend a few tears and I’ll be able to go with that. In fact, after that, you don’t even need to stick around.” He retracted his blade and pocketed it carefully, making sure to set the blade on the strip of leather he’d lined his pocket with so it wouldn’t cut through the fabric of his pants. “Unless you’d like to figure out what’s making your sight the way it is.”

He didn’t mention his odd glowing. That might have been too much for the stranger to take in. It was almost too much for Carter himself.

"Surface..." Adrian mused, glancing upwards. If it came from the surface, the most logical explanation would be water sources, right? "Why isn't everyone being affected by this?" If they had been, then surely there would be tell-tale signs.

As for the tears...that would be easy. All Adrian would need to do was remove his glasses, and within seconds he'd have matching streams on either side of his face. "Of course I want to know." He stated simply. "Knowing what we have is a step closer to fixing it. How'd you find out this is a bacteria..?"

Carter examined his hands. They were hands, obviously, but he was interested to see how they reacted when in contact with another. Nothing seemed odd, or glowing in any way. “Possibly,” he said at last, “they’re considering it an illness. Or it’s not that debilitating yet. Or they’re too afraid to come forward with it.” Anything was possible. Carter had just figured he was unlucky. He knew what it was while everyone else would deny or try to destroy the precious bacteria. He should have felt... honored.

“Well, if you want to know, you’d do well to come with me.” He threw his hand behind his shoulder in the age-old gesture of ‘follow’. “I’ve got the necessities in my office, it’ll let me know everything I need.” He paused. “I... can tell you there. Be best to show you how I know what I know.” Carter didn’t quite want to. He didn’t want to show anyone his great-grandfather’s works. Most dubbed it the ramblings of a madman or post-traumatic stress disorder.

Adrian scrambled behind the other male. He should be getting home, to his sister. But, this seemed far more important at the moment. After all, he couldn't care for her if he was blind, correct?

"I can understand that." He finally responded a bit gruffily. After all, he couldn't have let anyone know about the blindness. "Your office? What is it you do?"

(Sorry it's short. I'm in a terrible hurry and I'm also sorry it's taken so long. Hopefully soon I'll have a laptop of my own.)