There's an antisceptic scent on the air; sweet, sickly and sticky despite the cool, mottled weather outside. The walls are a sterile white. The carpet is low pile, hard-worn likely hotel reject from an era when black and white television was still cutting edge. Shockingly, the length down the hallway appears to have been cleaned recently but the stains and impacted grime have proven more resilient than whatever industrial strength cleaner was approved for use in the group home.
The building is essentially a collection of bachelor apartments with shared bathrooms on either end. Intended as a transitioning point rather than permanent abode, it's clear that some have made their living circumstances a more permanent fixture of their lives based on the wailing of a child or the myriad heated conversation that permeates the walls. For some reason, the air is too warm and a hand placed against one of the vents will reveal the cause: the circulating air is moist and heated more than it really should be.
Each doorway down the halls is decorated with the same burnished brass letters and faux laminate wood covering over particle board. It's not uncommon to find the occasional door partially ajar and Ella's, lucky number 15, is one of those such easily permeable portals.
Averil takes in the complex and...sighs. Everyone needs a place to stay and if this all people can afford, then so be it. What does have her annoyed is the obvious lack of care by whoever owns this place. Making himself rich by not giving a shit. Finding apartment 15, and being worried that the door is ajar, she knocks lightly. "Ella? Are you in there? It's Averil." The doctor dressed for comfort - boots, pants, t-shirt. It's still warm enough to avoid zipping up the jacket she also wears. "I'm coming in, Ella." Slowly she pushes the door open.
Drapes drawn, the scant sunlight that peeks through the thick leaves the room dappled grey with a single stripe down the center. The room has been organized nearly like a nest with a double mattress occupying the center of the room. The sheets are plain, and the duvet is a repurposed sleeping bag as evinced by the brown and cream color combination along with the thick silver zipper that lines the perimeter. Along the walls, mismatched drawered furniture is lined up like a mixed city skyline and atop their surfaces a variety of toiletries, gloves, and rejected garments can be found. In one corner, an oval full-length mirror sits slightly askew with a frame reminiscent of estate sale throwaways. In another corner, hot plate can be found. Alongside bags of canned soup and a small container of carrots can be found. A few used bowls make up the majority of her kitchen as far as dishes are concerned.
Sprawled on the edge of the bed, her upper torso directed towards the door, Ella lingers in a state of undress. Generic, Fruit of the Loom branded undergarments do much to give her some degree of modesty and little to offer anything in the way of sex appeal. A rubber tube is wrapped about her upper bicep, a needle emptied of its contents a few inches away. To match, a bottle or two of bottom shelf vodka have rolled away from her person but one bottle still remains partially clasped in Ella's fingers.
Ella's eyes open as hearing her name drags her consciousness to the surface. The brown-hued orbs regard Averil drowsily before they roll and turn with her body. Hugging the empty bottle like a teddy bear, her eye lids close once again.
"Fuck off," Ella murmurs. The dimpling of the carpet floor has left an impression on her upper back.
"Not today, Ella. I'm not going anywhere" Averil informs her hostess before quickly shutting the door behind her and, even more quickly, rushing over to the semi-naked junkie. She picks up the needle and frowns, placing it carefully away from them both before returning to undo the rubber cord. "Trying to overdose? Is this why you missed out appointment." She will do her best to take the bottle from Ella's grasp though she won't get into a fight about it. "Can we at least get you sitting up" she says calmly and clearly. "Let me look at your eyes" she adds, checking Ella's pulse. "What did you see this time?"
Choosing not to resist for the moment, Ella rolls on to her back and watches with ever-increasing attentiveness. When the rubber cord is lifted, her fingers curl and unfurl with a lazy rhythm.
"Right, that's why my hand is all tingly," Ella muses before she tosses the bottle aside and props herself up. Rump on the floor, feet up on the bed, she surveys her surroundings before swatting Averil's hand aside and scowling. Her hair is a matted mess, a feral mane to match her feral mien. "Fuck off, I'm fine. It's not like this shit does anything anymore." A dismissive wave is cast to needle and bottle with equal measure. "Easiest shit to steal from these idiots though."
With an exasperated grunt, Ella rolls back on to her back and scratches at the crease mark at the joining point between hip and leg. "I missed it because it's useless imaginary shit. Your wife or whatever the fuck she is certainly enjoyed fucking with me too. What's her problem anyway?"
"Neither of us are fucking with you, Ella" Averil replies sternly, but calmly. "We're both trying to help. Trying to make you believe what you are seeing is real, and then helping you deal with it. This is not helping anything. Even you admit it. And if it's not doing anything to help, then don't do it." The doctor sighs softly. "Ella, I can't help you if you don't want to be helped. Just a little bit is all I need. Something to grow into what you need from yourself to beat this." A wry smile forms. "But if you think that means I will go away if you don't think you can, then you don't know me very well. I will keep at you because I believe in you. I want you to be all you can be." A gesture at the room, the bottles, and the needle. "Anyone can be nothing."
Whether it's Averil's dulcet tones or raw persistence, the sharp, combative edge to the slant of the younger woman's brow softens. "Fuck you're annoying," Ella complains but there's little venom in her tone. Instead, she pulls her feet underneath her and with a tiny hop rises to her feet.
“Fuck it. Let's go on a road trip." Ella announces this as she busies herself with kicking the empty bottles to the edges of the room. They clink with a dejected chime as she scoops a basic black tanktop over herself quickly and shimmies form-fitting leathers over her naked legs. On go thick-soled Doc Martins and, with a quick ruffle of her hair, she seems ready to rock.
"After you," Ella motions in the direction of the door with the flat of her palm as she hoists a small backpack up and over her shoulder. The distinct, dull thud of metal scraping can be heard.
"Road trip?" Averil also stands, collecting the drug and drink paraphernalia - not leaving that in the room. "My car is in the parking lot" she explains. Under no circumstance is Ella driving in her current state!
Averil leads the younger woman out, making sure the door is closed behind them, and then heads towards her car. "I'd rather be annoying than uncaring" she smiles sweetly. And there is her car...a VW Beetle. One of the old ones. A beast no doubt. She opens the passenger door for Ella. "What have you got in your backpack?" she asks lightly, expecting 'fuck off' to be the answer.
Free room service? Ella says nothing and instead presses her lips in to a thin line in some form of wordless disapproval. She barely remembers her jacket, but the short-hemmed, long-sleeved garment is snatched just as she breaches the threshold between her vaguely odorous abode and the slightly acidic hallway.
"Fuck your car," Ella's expletive-laden diction continues to mar her nubile voice, "you're not going to want your plate anywhere near where we're going." Bypassing the open door, she stomps with purpose towards something a little more sporty but no better for wear. The Malibu is a rust bucket. For the particularly observant, the plates are startingly new looking by comparison.
"Gardening accessories," Ella answers cryptically, throwing her voice over her shoulder with a stolen glance that barely interrupts her stride.
"And do you intend to drive that vehicle in your current state?" Averil asks with a raised eyebrow and a, slightly, disapproving voice. She pats the hood of her yellow VW. "Don't listen to her. She doesn't know how awesome you are."
The psychiatrist follows her patient to the vehicle that looks about to fall apart at any moment. "Is that why you change the plates? You always go to places that are dangerous?" Arms fold across her chest. "I can't let you drive, Ella."
"Current state?" Ella's sarcastically sweet tone is coupled with a quizzical tilt of the head and a raised brow. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Exasperated, she slumps her bag off of her back to cradle it in her arm as she fishes around for something within as her gaze loses itself in the sky. "Been drinking since I was 15 and this bitch thinks I'm in a state. Yeah, funny. She'll be in a fucking state when we get to our destination, that's for sure." A screwdriver and a pair of gloves finds its way out of the void of her bag. Unceremoniously, Ella tosses both bits at the doctor's feet.
"Whatever, you fucking drive. I don't care," Ella nearly snarls as she nods towards the items. "There's the key."
Without any further fanfare, Ella pivots on the ball of her foot and turns to let herself in to the passenger side before throwing her back in to the back seat. The ignition has been pried off leaving an empty socket.
"You also have heroin running through your veins" Averil points out before glancing down at the gloves and screwdriver. A snort of amusement and a shake of her head as she picks them up, slipping on the gloves before opening the driver side door. Once her seat belt is on...she won't bother trying to make Ella wear one...she slips the screwdriver into the slot and turns it. The engine sputtering into life. The vehicle vibrating around them.
"I haven't driven something like this in a while" Averil smiles before glancing over at the passenger. "So where are we off to that is so terrifying? You know, I've been in the spirit world. That was pretty crappy."
The click of the belt buckle betrays the fact that Ella does not, despite evidence to the contrary, have a death wish. Wiggling in her seat, she crosses her arms over her chest and settles a boot on the dash. Her gaze is fixed straight forward.
"Yeah, as if it does shit," Ella states flatly. "Crow Hollow." At the mention of the spirit world, her attention slides over to the aggravatingly optimistic woman. "And you think I'm high on something? Fuck." With a groan she settles the crown of her head on the window and dismissively flicks wayward strands of hair over her shoulder before once again twisting her arms defensively across her chest. "Probably just getting drunk with that beefy girlfriend of yours. Probably doing 'roids as you two travel to this 'spirit world' through the bottom of a tequila bottle."
"I don't think you're high at all" Averil shrugs. "Heroin doesn't make you high, not really, it makes you numb. Which, depending on your mood, you could mistake for pleasure. I'm not worried you'd run us off the road, more worried you'd fall asleep, or your reactions would be too slow. And if it does shit...why do you think that is?"
Averil does push the speed limit as she drives. Even drifting over every now and then - she's not a total square. "She's my wife, not girlfriend. She doesn't take roids, that's all hard work. Not even sure when the last time we got drunk was. Tell me, Ella, why are you so convinced that what we are saying to you is wrong? Why do you think what you see is not real? Do you think it is a reflection of your own guilt at killing the monster who abused you? You think you need to be punished for that?"
The pace is pleasant, but Ella does not seem to enjoy not being in control. Instead, she shifts like a toddler in a car seat seemingly unable to settle on which cheek of her rump should take the bulk of her weight. Her fingers curl with equal restlessness and her feet trade places between floor and dash with equal measure. She snorts like a bull at Averil's description of the narcotic.
"Fuck if I know," Ella retorts succinctly, perhaps responding to both queries. "And fuck you. Talking to me as if you understand anything. I don't regret what I did at all."
"I'm /trying/ to understand, so that I can help you" Averil counters. "Technically, I want /you/ to understand so you stop lying to yourself. Then you can tell me to fuck off as much as you like and I might even listen" she winks to the other woman. "I can still sympathize or empathize" she notes before adding, "And fuck you for thinking that my life has always been perfect and that I could never understand hardship. Even murder." No bitterness or anger in her words though. "Anywhere in particular in Crows Hollow?"
"I'm sure you are," Ella singsongs but it's mocking in its cadence. "This is why we're going on this trip. We're going to have all these revelations and other heart to heart shit like fucking Intervention. You'll cry, I'll cry, and we'll all be one big, happy, fucking doctor patient bodybuilder truffle." She throws her hands up in the air but it's hardly a heart-felt hallelujah. "Everyone thinks this is some attention grabbing selfish masturbationfest but it's not and after the seventh shrink or so you tend to not trust them much since they rattle on about the same shit every fucking time."
Taking in a deep breath, Ella settles down and halts her tirade. For the moment, she settles in her seat. "Just off of The Square, the west woods. There's a break in one of those shitty farmer fences where a tree fell, and it just never got fixed." Ella shuffles herself in to the corner of the seat, once again pressing her head up against the cool glass. "That's where we get out of this car and get on the crazy train."
"I don't think you're trying to grab attention at all" Averil replies with a shrug. "I think you're trying to avoid it. Denying the truth by hiding in drugs and drink. The irony being that it doesn't work. I hope that one day you can trust me...and the bodybuilder" she smirks. "Not sure we need to be a truffle though."
A nod to the directions as Averil turns towards the west woods. "Ozzy Osbourne fan, Ella?" she asks regarding the crazy train. "Is that the place?" A nod of Averil's head to a section of broken fence as she slows down.
"Who the fuck is Ozzy Osbourne?" Ella queries with a snipe but quickly ceases her line of inquiry and straightens in the seat as they round the bend. Focus renewed, her eyes drill forward to the area Averil motions. Sure enough, it matches the description. A fallen tree tangled in rust covered wire fence that's nearly scrabbled enough to form a barbed equivalent.
"Probably," Ella shrugs nonchalantly, attempting to be casual, but there's a stiffness to her back and shoulders that hints to the observant that the younger woman wants to run. "Never been here."
"He was in the Osbournes" Averil begins before she too lets it drop, pulling the car up alongside the fallen tree. She looks over at Ella. "You saw this in your vision?" she asks softly before glancing over at the tree for a moment. "C'mon, you need to see that these things are real." A deep breath before she steps out of the car. Averil is only a mortal, not an immortal like her wife. The things out here could rip her to shreds, but she needs to make Ella believe. "What exactly did you see?"
"Visions," Ella chortles but there's nothing but nervousness laced in to the warble. "Fuck it, this is happening." Steeling herself, she nearly throws the door off of its hinges as she kicks it open and leans in to the back seat of the car to retrieve her bags. She takes a moment to slip some thick, blue latex gloves on her hands before slinging the bag over her shoulder and unceremoniously kicking the car door closed.
"Fun and games," is all Ella offers as she breaks in to a galloping gait that takes her up the length of the tree and in to the bush with a practiced ease. With a gentle landing, she allows a moment for Averil to catch up as she surveys the surroundings.
There's no overt path but there is some lessening of the brush in the area. Ella seems to have chosen her jacket and pants with a mind to wandering through the prickly bushes.
Averil does her best to keep up - at least she is reasonably fit. Though she wasn't prepared for prickles and nettle. "I like fun and games" she smiles, peering at the darkness around them. "If we'd taken my car, we would have had flashlights and a first aid hit. Just saying. Lead the way, Ella. And remember, I'm here with you." She would promise that nothing would hurt Ella either, but...that would be a promise Averil wouldn't be able to keep.
Ella snorts in the darkness as she peers over her shoulder at the doctor. There's a vaguely alien familiarity in her chestnut eyes that's barely visible in the looming gloom. Her pupils are large enough to nearly block out the coloration of the iris. From the bag, a headlamp on an elastic headband. It's tossed underhand at the other woman.
"Bitch, I steal shit and you don't think I have a flashlight or two?" Ella admonishes Averil. The first aid kit is maybe out of range. At a clipped pace, the leather clad woman stomps unburdened deeper in to the wooded area. "We'll see how long your support lasts."
Averil catches the lamp and looks at it before looking curiously at Ella. "Did you rob a mineshaft?" she asks while strapping it on and switching on the light. Then she will move fast to catch up with Ella. "I will support you as long as you need support. Now, if a ravenous monster leaps out of the shadows and I run away, that's not because I don't support you. That's because a ravenous monster just leaped out of the shadows at me."
Ella cares little for the tiny twigs and nettles prodding at her skin, seemingly completely unperturbed as she maintains an even pace. Despite having claimed to have never been in this neck of the woods before, her steps are sure and even.
"Thrift store shit," Ella states matter-of-factly without skipping a beat. "Monsters? Worst case you'll step on a hornet's nest or in some fucking hole." Since Averil was military at some point, she may notice that there's broken branches here and there if she's sweeping the light wide enough. "I used to like the night a lot as a kid. People fuck right off when it gets dark."
"Because it frightens them" Averil replies about people disappearing at night. "We don't have the eyesight of the predators in the dark, so we hide away. Even now. It's in our core." A frown at the sight of the broken branches. They make her slow a little, even check some of them out. "Slow down, Ella. Someone has come this way already...and recently. Don't want to walk into an ambush." Though, perhaps, Ella know exactly what is going to happen.
"The only predator in this world is Human," Ella snarls, her sneer mercifully lost in the dark lest it twist her youthful visage in to something horrifying for Averil to see. Ignoring the doctor's plea, Ella's gesture with her right hand is flippant.
"No shit, Sherlock," Ella laughs glibly seemingly uninterested in the other woman's concerns of ambush. "Nobody's going to ambush us out here. These woods are a garbage dump, not some fucking hunting ground. Jesus."
Abruptly, after a few more strides, Ella halts in her tracks. "Time for the fun part." Slinging the bag to ground, she unzips it and dispenses a portable shovel and a crowbar.
The area is rather nondescript. No clearing, nothing particularly out of the ordinary save that the refuse on the ground is wet on top in places when it hasn't rained. A sweep of the light should reflect enough to make that readily apparent to marginally trained eyes.
Ella rises and kicks a spot.
"Have fun." She doesn't intend to dig.
"I'm not the one with visions" Averil points out, "I don't know if there is anyone out here." A poke of her tongue at Ella as they get to the digging spot. She crouches down, noticing the dampness, and that makes her frown. The shovel is looked at, and then Ella, before Averil snorts in amusement. "Fine. You probably haven't got the muscles for it anyway" she teases, picking up the shovel and using it to clear away the refuse first. Don't want to dig directly into a body. "I take it someone is buried here."
Ella's eyes narrow rather than rolling at Averil's levity. Remaining on her haunches, she tilts her head quizzically as if unable to fight against the behest of gravity.
"Your wife likely stole all of it," the younger woman retorts with flat delivery. At the mention of the body, she peers at the disturbed ground for a span of a heartbeat before nodding. Ella's chestnut gaze settles back on the doctor. Her facial features are morose, as if she would break out in to tears at any moment, but then again, she always carries an air of melancholy on her face.
"Very fucking perceptive," Ella notes, offering a slow clap of her latex covered gloves. "But it's in a metal barrel so have at it."
"Say," Ella murmurs, "you ever consider that perhaps I'm the one that murdered the person here? That's how I know about it, right?"
"Nope, I didn't consider that at all, Ella" Averil replies about the possibility of being dragged out here by a murderer. Continuing to dig as she speaks. "I believe in your visions. Dorthy believes in your visions. You have to believe in them too. Then we can get you the better life that you deserve." The psychiatrist has the patience of a saint.
Earth is tossed aside as she shovels. "Any idea who the victim is? And, yeah, if Dorthy were here we would be finished by now. She's very strong."
Ella groans and casts her sight to the sky as if she could peer at the gods and ask them the question she utters afterwards. "Why does no one take me seriously?!" Cracking her knuckles idly, she watches the other woman work with zero interest. Occasionally, Ella scans the woods.
"Whatever," Ella seems to have given in to something, unwilling to go on her usual profanity laden tirade. "No, I don't." She shakes her head without breaking her sight line to Averil. The statement lacks conviction as her words are lost in between a breath. "It's going to smell totally awesome when we crack this baby open."
"Yeah...awesome" Averil notes, only then taking her phone out to take some pictures of the site. "I know you killed someone in the past, Ella. But I haven't been abusing you, so no reason to kill me." There is a clunk sound as the shovel strikes metal. "Sounds like we hit it."
Averil now moves to make the hole wider rather than deeper. Clearing away the earth from what seems to be a metal drum. "You still don't believe your visions are real?"
Remaining settled on her haunches, Ella's attention continues to stay fixated on the other woman's features for several heartbeats before breaking away to cast in to the darkness. Features stoic. Lips pressed in to a thin line.
"You're an asshole," Ella snipes but it's lazily delivered and carried aloft on a tone that lacks fire. "Have you ever considered what it means to actually acknowledge this shit?" The tempo and volume of her words rises in equal measure. Her eyes seem to glitter in the dark with a degree of madness as her head turns back.
"Asshole is one of the nicer things people have called me" Averil smirks as she continues to widen the hole. "Of course I've considered it. It means we all have to cope with a whole new world that many of us are unprepared to deal with. Even those people who believe in a God...which is just as nonsensical and has even less proof. Those people, ironically, have a really difficult time dealing with it."
Averil rests on the shovel a moment as she looks at Ella. "Have you considered what it means to refuse its existence when you have proof? You're living it. Is it better than acknowledgement?" She looks down at the drum. "I don't suppose this will have an easy to remove lid."
The doctor shouldn't be particularly surprised when a small prybar trundles towards her flank. The haphazard toss is made by Ella who is now standing with her arms crossed in an attempt to supplant the other woman's role of lecturer. The woman's backpack sits now visibly deflated.
"You just don't fucking get it," Ella's nubile voice has little difficulty carrying over the din of the quiet wood, "this isn't some avenging angel bring fuckers to justice shit." A blue latex covered hand emerges from the crook of her arm briefly to make a knifing gesture towards the drum and its macabre contents. "This is the consequence of not doing what I was told."
"If there is a body in here, Ella, it has nothing to do with you. It is the consequence of a sick mind acting out their fantasies in a violent manner. Unless you killed this person, you're in the clear about that" Averil replies as she picks up the prybar. "Now, if you're saying it happened because you didn't act on the forewarnings that you received...that's not fair on yourself either. It is very obvious you don't believe your visions. We have to work on that to make you more accepting, so you will act on them. And if they prove to be false...that's better than not doing something and finding out they were real."
Averil taps the top of the metal drum with the bar. "Should we open it or call the police? Don't want to ruin any evidence...though it could also just be junk someone dumped." A deep breath. "Okay, let's do this. You never know, Ella, I could fucking get it."
"Fuck!" Ella lashes out at the air, casting her hands towards the sky before whirling and balling her hands in to fists at her sides. "You're so god damn infuriating." Snorting like a bull, it's a moment before she turns to face the doctor and the excavation site.
"Look, I believe this shit just fine," Ella confesses, "I've been lying to you and everybody else for years; feeding you fucking institutional types just enough of my exciting life to get prescribed something interesting that takes the edge off when I get some fucking immunity to the previous shit."
Gesturing towards the hole, Ella continues her mounting tirade. "Do you know what the voice in my head wants me to do to solve this shit? Kill someone. It shows me exactly who, exactly where, but never tells me why. Just take it on faith and jam some fucking knife in someone's kidneys. 'It's not like you haven't killed someone before.'"
Flopping to the ground, paying little mind to the refuse littering the forest floor, she rolls on to her side and curls up slightly. Her fingers busy themselves with rummaging through the leaves. Ella's eyes are glassy.
"Do what you want. I don't give a fuck."
"You do give a fuck, Ella. That's why we're here. That's why you're suffering like you are. I am, personally, glad you don't want to kill people" Averil replies in a serious tone, resting the bar on the drum for now. "Maybe you should make a deal with that voice? You will only do it, if they give you a good reason to do it. That can't be asking too much of something that seems to know people's darkest secrets and acts. /You/ are in control, Ella. The more you waste yourself on drugs and alcohol, the more you give up that control and need that drugs and alcohol. It's a vicious circle."
"And I take 'god damn infuriating' as a compliment" Averil winks as she picks up the prybar once more. "I do wish Dorthy was here though. I may have been in the army, but I was a psychologist, not Special Forces." She jams the bar between the lid and drum as best she can, trying to lever it off. "This may...take a little...time" she manages to pant out between exertions.
"That's not how it fucking works and you're already seeing the reason," Ella groans in annoyance and rolls on to her back to play starfish in the dirt. "If time is a stream and you're standing upstream from some shitty event that you'll eventually encounter as you float down without some metaphysical paddle, the only way you're going to know it's coming is if that event makes a big enough splash and the ripples make their way back to you. You know something shitty is coming but you won't know what made the splash." Sitting up at that point, Ella shakes her head briskly in a weak attempt to dislodge the twigs that have taken up residence in her frock.
"Why am I even trying to explain this crazy shit. I'm in control of fuck all and here you are going all happy-go-lucky-can-opener on someone's tuna can of a tomb." Ella watches the other woman's progress without any obvious desire to help with the task. "Do you enjoy this?"
"Enjoy?" Averil stops what she is doing to think on the question, lips pursed. "Do I enjoy opening up metal drums with possible bodies inside? No. Not in the slightest. Do I enjoy trying to help people even if they abuse, berate, and, sometimes, physically attack me? Yes. Because that is what I want to do. To help." She resumes the prying. "You could be in control of everything if you wanted to be. If you let me help you. That voice in your head needs you, not the other way around."
"This ripples in a stream idea. Did you come up with it yourself, or did someone tell you that was how it worked?" Averil asks lightly. "I think it's opening. The voice in your head tell you that? Ella...do you think you're the only one in the world like this?"
"How noble, Ms. Knight," Ella chides as she allows her mind to mull over the next consideration. Her head eventually droops as the weight of the idea seems to be too much for her neck to handle.
"No, this is how it works," Ella replies matter-of-factly. Her conviction is short-lived and vanishes as soon as she looks up from the ground. "Fuck, I don't know. Does anyone know this shit? It seems right enough to me but I'm not Stephen-fucking-Hawking. Do you know?" Ella shakes her head. "No, you don't." There's a juvenile satisfaction she takes from that knowledge for whatever reason. Drawing up her feet underneath her she rises to her full height and dusts off her rump.
"Maybe I am the only one. Does it matter?"
"Of course it matters. You don't want to believe that I can understand or help but someone who has been through the same thing? Has the same voices? Has the same decisions weighing on their mind and has come through the other side. Sounds like that could be a great help. If nothing else, it will prove to you that it is possible to survive this and flourish" Averil replies, her voice soothing and...hopeful.
"Neither of us are Stephen Hawking" Averil shrugs, "We can walk...and we're alive." The lid of the drum cracks open and she immediately holds her breath in expectation of a rather nasty smell to seep out.
There's something sweet and cloying that hits the nostrils first like the cheap perfume-laden garments previously owned by the elderly and ditched at thrift stores. The rotting meat comes next riding a mélange of bodily fluids excreted from orifices no longer held shut by life infused tissues. Mercifully, the time of night keeps the insect life at bay for the moment; the fly-signal cast on deaf ears for the moment.
"Yum yum," Ella notes casually. For whatever reason, she seems inured to the scent of spoiled viscera. The other woman's preternatural voice seems to keep Ella's incredulity to a minimum. "She isn't walking anymore but I certainly can. I'm done with this shit." Snorting aggressively, she launches a ball of phlegm in to the darkness. "Going to need a bucket of Flonase to get this out of my nostrils. Tell you what, since we just had this exciting moment together if you can find someone else that plays the Grim Reaper besides Brad Pitt maybe I'll hear them out."
"Okay, confirmed" Averil squeaks before slamming the lid back down and then gasping for breath. "You said you saw who did this? Describe them to me so I can tell the police. But tell me what you really saw, don't make shit up. And then get out of here and I'll deal with the police. I'll find you someone, and don't forget our appointments again please. It's not fun to find a patient drugged out of their head on the floor."
Ella's brow furrows, the scowl obvious even in the wan light. "You still don't get it." The declaration isn't filled with as much vitriol as it could, the other woman's strange countenance and soothing tones lending to that outcome, but her posture stiffens just the same. "I get shown someone to kill to maybe prevent this bullshit. I don't know if they did it or not if it's some butterfly effect fuckery or what." Beckoning towards Averil, Ella nods towards the pry bar before leaning over and snatching up bag. "I'll need that back."
Averil uses the bar to hammer down the lid again before handing it back. "Good point" she nods about the identity of the killer. "Maybe we should figure that out? Who, exactly, is it you're seeing in these visions. Get yourself out of here. It'll have to be on foot, sorry." She plucks her phone from her pocket after clambering out of the hole. "I will do all I can to help you, Ella. You just have to let me."
Stashing the tool back in her bag of tricks, Ella slings it over her shoulder and pivots to turn back the way the pair came. "Whatever," is her flippant response to both bits. It's not like she hasn't hitchhiked at odd hours before. She offers a curt wave, not bothering to turn back to regard the other woman, before she stomps off back down the trail.