revivalproject | Addicted to this feelin', I can't help but swallow up your poison

Who: Angel Dust, OTA
What: Withdrawals
Where: The mines
When: Zombie Event
Warnings: Addiction, Withdrawals, Drugs

Angel hadn’t counted on being rounded up into a mine in the midst of the zombie outbreak, and as such, had maybe one hit’s worth stashed on his person. Even rationing it out, it doesn’t take long before he’s feeling the aches of withdrawal. At least the relative lack of food means he has nothing to retch up.

They’re a few days in when Angel tries to skulk off into the shadows, crouching down with strained breaths. Pulling the baggie from his chest fluff he curses, there’s barely anything left. His hands shake as he tries to tap the meagre remains of power out onto the back of his hand. It’s not enough but it’s something. But before he brings it up to his nose he’s jostled from behind. The demon swears desperately, clawing at the mine floor and attempting to snort what he finds only to wrinkle his nose in disgust. Nothing but dirt and dust.

“You fuckin’-“ Teeth bared, Angel turns on you with his eyes a glow.

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This had gotten a lot less fun incredibly fast. There were only a few bad cuts that could manage that, Stu's fun was resilient, and it was like they all happened at once, and now they were stuck in a hole with a bunch of assholes who didn't want to do anything but watch Billy die. In a directionless haze, Stu had mostly zoned out, finding himself listening to the groan and clatter of the zombies at the barrier, and wondering who would be next. When he wandered deeper into the tunnel, he didn't expect that the weird fuzzy lump he ran into was something that talked.

He had barely recovered from stumbling back away from it when it was suddenly turning on him, all fangs and evil eyes, and very quickly he had to get back into his own body to yelp, "What the fuck?"

Pushing himself upright, Angel towered over the teen, crowding in after him and giving the boy a shove to try and out let out some of that anger. If he had his guns he might've filled the kid up with lead, so it was arguably a far kinder response that he might've got anyways.

"Do ya even know what ya just did?!?"

Stu was already backing up without needing to be told, shoulders hunch and defensive and eyes darting for a safe place to land on this thing that seemed more human. He had seen it as they were coming in, of course, it was hard to miss, he recognized it now that it was stretching up and spreading its arms, so at least he knew it wasn't one of those radioactive zombies. That didn't make it seem much friendlier. To the shove, he willingly backed up and hunched over even more, until he was against the wall and couldn't back away any further, insisting, "Hey, easy, okay?, easy."

He had, of course, no idea what just happened, but he could at least guess with his hands raised in surrender, "I didn't mean it, man, ma'am, sir, man, it was an accident."

The fumbling answer made Angel sigh long and heavy, but it dampened some of his more immediate rage. It wasn't much fun beating on a kid in the first place, let alone one that wasn't putting up a fight. And it wasn't going to bring the fucking drugs back.

"Angel," he snapped, "Tell me you at least got a smoke on ya or somethin'?"

There were a lot of people in a lot of different states of elevated frustration since this whole mess started. What Tae wasn't expecting to run into was Angel. Especially not in the state he was in.

Yet even if she didn't know exactly what he was, she could tell what was going on. No amount of bared teeth and angry glowing eyes were going to yield something more than an impassive, unimpressed look from her though.

"Withdrawal is never pleasant. You're going to need to hydrate as you go through it. Do you have sufficient water? And perhaps I can give you some pain medication for what comes next."

"Yeah, no shit it ain't pleasant," he snapped, that look taking at least some of the wind out of his sails. "Lady, I ain't been properly sober for like 80 years now. It's going to be fuckin' bad."

He gestured at himself, carrying nothin but the clothes on his back and a gun that barely worked on the surface. "Where ya think I'm stashin' that? In my tits?"

If she wasn't a physician, she might snap back. As it was she pulled a bottle of water out of the bag hanging from her shoulder. Yes, she was in fact fussing over her fellows.

"Drink. Get half of that bottle down and I'll give you the pain pills. I warn you, they are not narcotic level, so they won't give you a rush."

It was not the answer Angel wanted exactly, annoyed by the lack of reaction to his lashing out, but as much as he wanted a fight, he wanted it to hurt even less. So he accepted the bottle with a petulant look, glaring at it for a moment before relenting and unscrewing the thing. He drank it down maybe too quickly for someone that was nauseous, but once he did he realized just how dry his throat had been. His mind conjured up a few dirty jokes, but he didn't have the energy to recite any of them. Shit, he really was bad, wasn't he?

"If that's human shit, I'm gonna need a lot of it. Shit don' do much for me no more."

Again, she doesn't seem really bothered by the annoyance, the sharpness. She understood, and saw no reason to flinch back from the ugliness of a detox.

"They are only traditional grade. If you would prefer to not take what I can offer, then I will keep it for other cases."

A small amount's better than nothing, Angel a little sullen as he shakes his head, holding out one of his lower palms for the medicine.

"I didn' say no."

"You didn't," Tae agreed after a moment before she took a bottle out of the bag at her side. She shakes out more than the normal dosage and holds it out. "Here. I'd suggest pacing yourself with them, but I know you won't. My best advice for now is to down them, drink more water, and see if you can get food off of someone. Do everything you can to encourage your body to start processing them before the nausea sets in."

It wouldn't be perfect, but it would be something.

He grumbles faintly at her not wrong assertion, and takes the pills from her. While he's not lying about demons' having far different tolerance levels compared to humans, he does split what she's give him into two piles almost just to be contrary, knocking back one of them and stashing the rest away for later. Least this way if he puked he wouldn't lose all of it.

"...Thanks Doc," he acknowledges, seeming faintly out of practice.

"You're welcome."

THen, after a moment of thought, she pulls out a small bundle as well.

"Some mint leaves. When the nausea hits you'll probably want something to chew on to get the taste out of your mouth. I am sorry there is not more I can do."

Addicted to this feelin', I can't help but swallow up your poison

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