A/N;
And just so everyone knows, no, it's not David King xD
I think I might go through and add some dates, because there's one event later on I'd like to skip two of three months after =/ Hm. Gotta think haha.
Ditto9 - It's certainly not a pleasant place, lol X3
KT324 - Huzzar for friends, especially in the place Jill live :3 You're probably right... Alas, it's one of those variables that change in each fic of mine haha. In a place that rains so much, I think she'd get sick of it after awhile XD That's my reasoning and I'm sticking to it, lol! Thank you~
Jill Valentine and the Resident Evil franchise belongs to Capcom.
Her nose scrunched as soon as she picked up the scent inside. The first time it hit you, it was the universal smell of neglect. Dusty, plain, metallic in a way, the temperature reaching an uncomfortable, muggy heat.
But underneath that there was something else. While the room was silent, bar the sound of a dripping tap from a sink in the corner, the smell of the room held some sort of movement. What lingered traveled to you then around, and it would take a few moments to pick it up – If you could recognize it.
Jill closed the door behind her, feeling around the wall for a light switch. Her eyes were taking too long to adapt to the darkness of the room, and would rather restore her vision and finish her errand as quickly as possible.
The light 'click' of the flicked switch echoed through the cold room, light dimming and brightening, on and off before finally settling on a dim glow. One of the fluorescent light lights had blown, leaving only a single dull rod to offer some guidance. She cast her eyes to the ground, looking for just a hint, a small indent – It had been too long, and she wasn't able to remember off by heart the location she was seeking.
"May as well have used invisible paint on the damn thing…" She muttered under her breath.
Just as those words left her mouth, the offered light seemed darkened around an area of the floor. A part of it had come up, and Jill mentally slapped herself for not remembering that rather clear location of the trap door. She crossed her arms across her chest, tapping her foot impatiently on the ground as she waited for the person who had opened it – A man in his middle ages.
It was quite clear he hadn't noticed Jill's presence – He was whistling a tune she couldn't place, but reminded her of something by Beethoven, and was carrying a bucket. He'd set it down on the ground as he stepped out off the hide out, dusting himself off and---
"Holy fuc---!!"
"Nice to see you too, David." Somehow she couldn't resist teasing the older man as he knocked over the bucket, clutching at his chest as he caught his breath. He glared at her, before breathing out loudly and managing to shake it all off.
"Well if it isn't Valentine's kid! How's your old man?" David asked, not wanting to draw attention to his less than elegant reaction.
She uncrossed her arms, able to hide any hesitation she may have accidentally shown Emerald earlier. "He's fine, fine…" Jill assured him, giving a slight wave of her hand as she did so.
"Well that good to hear. How about you then little lady? You're looking at bit green around the gills." Although she had been able to hide that worry, the stress she was feeling since her father got caught had somewhat devalued her appearance.
"I've been better to say the least." She sighed, pausing for a moment. "Actually, I came to ask a favour."
"Oh, this is trouble calling… What do you need?"
She patted the pockets of her jacket, smiling smugly and shrugging as she looked back to him. "I'm strapped for cash, was wondering if there might be something I can do around the place?" She quizzed.
He hummed for a moment, scratching the back of his head and glancing around the near empty room, as if trying to find an answer within it. Clearly receiving no reply from it, he let his gaze wonder to the trap door, then back to Jill.
"Ahh… You sure about that, Missy? Hate ta dampen your mood, but I don't think we got anything around here, not till next week."
"Damn… I can't wait that long…" Her shoulders immediately sunk as he said this, her expression showing that she was rather let down by this – It was a simple, sullen frown that was directed at no-one in particular. "Thank you though, David."
"But," David butted in quickly, "If ya got the time I can always go down and double check for ya." He motioned to the trap door, which had been thrown wide open when his startled reaction had taken place.
"I'd appreciate it, David."
The path down wasn't very long at all – The floor beneath was simply that – another floor down. By all means Jill simply could have jumped rather than climbed, but at the current time she preferred to have an unbroken ankle, just in case. Such things were usually helpful when in a quiet panic.
A corridor was set out in front as David caught up, taking somewhat of a lead and walking forward, hands stuffed in his pockets. The corridor held a stale smell, lacking anything person yet still remaining slightly sickening in a way.
Jill followed, moving a hand over her nose. There was something about the blank smell that made her feel sickly – Perhaps due to the fact she knew the smell that would follow once the door at the end of the corridor was open. The solid walls echoed back the sounds of footsteps, and the 'click' of the locking mechanism snapping open. Door pushed forward, and more footsteps venturing on.
Jill closed her eyes, trying to prevent them from watering. She wasn't sure if it was the stench itself or the reasons behind the presence. Every moment she spend down below made her heart break – This hadn't changed since she was young and had visited the man with her father. Perhaps it hurt even more now because she knew.
"So how's that mongrel of yours going?" David asked, snapping Jill from her thoughts. She gave a slight nod, an acknowledgement rather than an answer.
"Atlas or my dad?" She quizzed, opening her eyes to make sure she didn't run into anything. The question earned a laugh at her father's expense before she continued. "He's doing good, eating better than me, I swear. And whenever we got someone coming up the hall, he practically tears the door down. He nearly knocked the thing down when I was leaving."
"Ha, fancy that! Sounds like I went and gave away one fuck of a good dog, shame that. That dame of his was a good one, she was."
At least she didn't feel claustrophobia anymore. The room after the hall was a larger one, with many other doors forking off from it. In truth, she didn't know what was behind all – Only a few, and even those she did not care to truly know about. She put the current room down to a preparation room, or an office of some sort… There were two tables set up, one other lying on its side. Papers, some stained and some clean, were taking up residence on the upright tables. A chair, here or there, a few posters to add some colour, and a random plant in the corner – Fake, a real one would be dying of lack of sun by now. Some parts of the walls and floors had been clean. Certain objects were thrown around, most recognizably being chains. Bloodied ones.
"She passed away?" She asked blankly.
"Didn't make it outta the ring last week."
As if on cue the sounds started. Knocking against doors, thrown up against the bars of cages and enclosures. Barks, howls, whimpers, whines… Snarls and the sound of ripping flesh and fur. And that always percent sound of chains and imprisionment.
Jill grimaced at the thought. While she knew it was the way David and his son had chose to keep food on the table, she could never imagine handing over her dog for such a blood sport. As much as she pushed it to the back of her mind, Dog Fighting sickened her to the pit of her stomach.
She wondered to herself for a moment, why she cared more for the sake of the canines of the city than the people that inhabited it half the time. A meager thought, thrown to the back of her mind.
She was thinking about it too much – She had to stop.
"Ah, Sorry honey, looks like we're fine for once."
David had wondered over to one of the tables with the papers on it while her mind had been wondering aimlessly. She snapped her gaze to him, a dazed look represent on her features. Her lips had parted, as if to ask him to repeat the statement, though aware it would sink in after a few moments. She blinked, each word repeating in her mind before she nodded.
"It's fine." She assured him after swallowing a knot in her throat, perhaps caused by the distress she could hear around her, "If you hear of any jobs, do you think you could drop me a line, if it isn't too much?"
"I'll be sure to send Ronnie over." He answered, waving a hand as a partially dismissal, And partially to assure her. He took his turn to pause, shifting through the papers as if reminded of something he had forgotten, a new resolve to get the Valentine girl out of the underground, "Speaking of which, if you got time tomorrow you should let Ronnie give that mutt of yours a look over."
"Alright, I'll have a look for 'em tomorrow." She turned on her heels, shrugging awkwardly as if she was disturbed by the thought. She held nothing against David's son, Ronnie – On the contrary, the two had some form of a friendship, but she was unable to shake off a chill. She quickly muttered a goodbye, retreating with haste.
Leaving the building, part of her was glad to have been denied the opportunity to make a few quick bucks. It would have been at the expense of one of her own, few morals – one which was limited just as much as the rest. But she would have put it aside if it meant she could have helped her father in whatever way, even it Atlas wouldn't sit on her feet for weeks on end.
Sighing gently, she began to walk once more. The whole affair couldn't have lasted too long, and she expected to return to Emerald with time to spare.
She slipped a hand to her shoulder, fingers slinking under the material of her hooded jacket. The straps of her bra had been shifted uncomfortably with her decent down the trapdoor, and she had all due intent on fixing it before it caused anymore of that discomfort. She tossed a slight glare across the street at a few passersby she faintly recognized, as if to warn them off. She shrugged her shoulders, just trying to keep herself occupied. Any lack of thinking would allow her worry to start again, that constricting panic in her chest, the grip of her heart.
She had to believe she could do this.
As she reached the street corner, she took a seat on one of the steps leading to a battered up house. She leaned her head against the railings, closing her eyes and suddenly realizing her body was aching for sleep. The stinging from earlier, and the similar threat of her body to cry, and oh, the stress… It had worn her out more than she had chosen to acknowledge.
She pushed up closer against the railings, as if trying to find some fort of comfort with something pushing back on her. It was something she did, on occasions craved, but never made known. Human touch was less than welcome in this world. Her world.
When you got close to someone, all you do is crash into them. Experience had taught her that the only thing you came out of it with was bruises and stitches, a few broken bones here or there. All loss and no gain.
Jill opened her eyes, arguing silently with herself to stop thinking in such ways. All throughout the day she had been thinking less than desirable thoughts, of the more unusual kind. The events had unsettled her and shaken what she had considered her safe ground. She was completely, and hopelessly…
"Welcome back."
She looked up, letting her body ease. Taking a deep breath, she stretched, before returning to a stand. Something about being looked down upon unsettled her greatly. Shoving her hands in her pants pockets, she got straight to it.
"I'm going to figure something out, Emerald." Seeing signs of the girl's rebuttal, she went on quickly. "Look. I appreciate it, I really do Emerald. But I can't accept that form of help. You know me, Em. Listen. If I don't have the money in a week, then I'll buckle and let you lend me the money, alright?"
Her friend's expression was not one of a pleased emotion. Accepted defeat, but not without being grumpy about it. "Fine," Emerald's word seemed somewhat forced, having been so determined to repay the girl somehow. "But I swear to god you better keep it, Or I'm gonna take a wrench to you as you sleep, got it? Cause you know that dog of yours won't be bothered by lil' old me."
A quick subject change before her friend decided to take up arms once again. "Well, I'm going to go visit dad before they have better excuses to kick me out."
Emerald's expression quickly turned to one of disgust at the thought of where he would be. Surrounded by pompous, jackarse, sexist pigs. And those weren't the other people being kept in the building. "Bring your gun and shoot one of them in the foot for me."
"Which one?"
"Any of 'em, they're all cocksuckers."
"I meant which gun?" Jill smiled, something unnervingly confident in her expression. The smile dropped as she tilted her head, giving a look of concern to her friend. "you alright, Em?"
Emerald simply nodded, pausing for a moment to wipe the side of her mouth, embarrassed. "M'kay, Jill. Promise." She assured her, though saw her friend's expression refrain from letting up, "… Job don't get any easier with each client. It's a living though."
Jill placed a hand on her friend's shoulder, whom was rather confused as to whether this was meant in a form of confrontation or comfort.
"It's lonely at home, just me and Atlas. You come by sometime for the night, alright?"
Emerald nodded in reply, but didn't raise her eyes from the ground as she heard her friend's footsteps heading off to a direction neither were thrilled about – The direction that lead to the local Police Station. She breathed in heavily, before looking off to the side to grab a glimpse of Jill's back. She knew that it wasn't her asking to have company for a night – It was Jill demanding she had a safe place to spend the night. Despite the woman's strong hatred, she still managed to be such a mother duck – And Emerald couldn't put into words how much she valued that sincere loyalty.
A/N;
Oh, I mentioned it on my dA but not here (and some people didn't pick up on it until I did), I think I should point out the fact that Emerald's a prostitute. So is Maryanne, but she hasn't made her appearance yet lol.