|Adam Cassidy (prodigalchef) wrote in destructionisle,|
@ 2019-08-16 21:25:00
|Entry tags:||!august ac, adam parish, kyrie van zandt|
Who: Adam Parish & Open
What: AC's arrival to the Island
When: August 16th, evening
Where: Just outside of 112 Liberty Street
Rating/Warnings: TBD (mentions of violence)
Status: Incomplete and Open
Everything hurt. From his head to his toes, every muscle in Adam's body screamed with protest when he moved even just a little. Still beyond the physical pain; the ugly bruises starting to show across his face and chest, and the bloody swollen eye and lip too, it was the sheer exhaustion that really added that extra pinch to the shit pie that was his life. Just 48 hours ago the twenty-two year old chef had been back in sunny San Jose, prepping for the dinner rush at Le Papillion. Working at the upscale restaurant had been a demanding gig, but it was one that the young chef earnestly enjoyed. Now, within two days his entire world had been flipped upside down. All thanks to that letter that his sister sent to him. For five years Adam hadn't heard a peep from his twin; and after having written a letter a week for the first two years...only to never get a single reply back, Parish honestly figured she had simply moved on.
Now though, after meeting the not so welcoming 'welcome committee' Adam found himself earnestly reevaluating a lot of things. Denial was still there to be sure. Even after the brutal beating, and the hours of being questioned, he still couldn't really wrap his head around the fact that he was a mutant. Honestly AC knew it had to have been some grave mistake, since he had no powers at all. No super smarts like his little sister. No ability to fly or throw lighting from his fingertips. In almost all things Adam Cole Parish thought himself simply normal. Oh he had a talent when it came to the culinary arts, yet even then there were far younger people out there that possessed the same knack for cooking. So it never once occurred to him that being able to cook well was a mutant power.
Still his pleas of innocence, the requests for a phone call or lawyer to help clear things up, all of it fell on dead ears. Well not deaf, so much as uncaring. For nearly fourteen hours the questioning, beatings, poking and prodding continued on. When it was clear that Adam had no real clue what was going on the ones in charge finally decided to call it a day. Yet there was no trip to the medical ward to get patched up. Only a set of clothing and a badge were shoved into his grasp before AC was unceremoniously dragged away by two massive men. After being dumped to the ground before a strange building, and told that it was to be his residence, AC just crumpled up there on the ground. Doing his best to avoid moving or breathing too much since the pain of the bruised ribs was only too eager to remind him of all that had transpired again and again. Alone at last, he shifted a tad. Finally managing to sit upright, and with a soft sigh falling from Parish's lip he found himself wishing for the hundredth time that he was anywhere but here.