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Dizziness. Pure dizziness.
It hit Clyde like a brick, as he looked down. Bottle in one hand, the other holding onto the branch for support.
Maybe climbing up a tree to drink wasn't the best idea, he thought...
Realistically, it wasn't very high up, and if he wanted to, Clyde could most likely jump out of it and be fine, if not be left with a small twist of the ankle.
While he thought about it, a figure seemed to come into Clyde's spinning vision. "Well, if it isn't Detective Daniels! Please tell me you aren't thinking what I think you're thinking." Clyde's eyes shifted to look at the tall man in front of him, eyes wide and staring at him with wonder, but Clyde could swear he saw a small smirk on his face.
"And what would that be?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Jumping out of the tree?" The man, who Clyde knew as Oliver, replied. "Mr. Daniels, you're quite the impulsive man when you're under the influence!" Oliver grinned. "Maybe even in general, dare I say."
Clyde bit the inside of his mouth thoughtfully. "Sometimes it's weird how well you know me, Oliver. Am I so predictable?" Clyde teased, smiling a bit.
"Very! Would I truly be a good Scavenger if I didn't know some kind of secret or two about everyone?" He asked, tilting his head to the side unnaturally. The Texan thought Oliver would definitely break his own neck if his body was designed the same way a human's was. Oliver's "human" form was unnerving, how similar it was to a human's, but doing specific mannerisms that reminded Clyde it was just a disguise. Fake skin.
There was a pause between them, as Clyde stared at him, lost in thought. His lip quivered as he heart started to pound in his chest.
"Oliver?"
"Yes?"
Oliver tilted his head curiously at Clyde.
"Do you know who killed me?"
Oliver frowned a bit, quickly diverting his eyes from the other man's. No response.
"You do, don't you?"
...
"Oliver, you need to tell me who."
...
"Oliver, please... I.. I need to. I need to avenge his victims..."
...
"Ol..." Clyde paused for a second.
"Oliver, I'm not the only victim.. This person hurt so many people. I know you worship Surkev, I know it's your duty to keep secrets but.... I need to know.."
...
"Oliver please. I need some kind of hint, just- anything...."
...
"Clyde Marie Daniels."
"You will find out who murdered you. But what will you do?" Oliver asked, staring the Texan man in the eyes now. "I won't be the person to tell you. I would be getting in the way of something that is not my purpose. It's your purpose to find out who did this. I can't do your job for you." Oliver finally let out, his voice dark.
When Clyde looked at his expression, he noticed a fond sadness to it. He sighed.
"I don't feel safe.. Is he still around?"
"You shouldn't feel safe." Oliver muttered, looking at the ground.
"You don't have your guard up enough, Clyde. Too many people want to hurt you. You're vulnerable, always being drunk."
Clyde could hear concern in Oliver's voice. Suddenly, he felt sick.
"I don't need yer pity, Oliver." He snapped, southern accent thickening in his drunkenness.
"Just leave me alone."
Oliver nodded sadly, offering a small, worried smile.
Then walked away.
Leaving Clyde alone with his thoughts.
.......
'How am I gonna get out of this tree?'