𝕾𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕾𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗 - [𝗦𝘁𝗲𝘃𝗲 𝗛𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘁𝗼𝗻]

𝐱𝐱𝐯. 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘳 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘶𝘮?

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 - poison or promethium?

━━━━━━━

 𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐀 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 didn't know when to leave things alone.

 Scarlet and Robin had propped themselves atop a stack of boxes, somewhat uncaring at the thought of vials of bubbling goo resting within them. They still had absolutely no idea what the liquid was, whether it was dangerous — no. That was a dumb thought, of course it was dangerous.

 But even despite that little tidbit, Erica seemed to have deemed it necessary to begin battering one of the vials as hard as she possibly could. The glass bounced off the metal barrel she'd taken to assaulting each time, neither a dent nor a crack to be seen — though that didn't mean that Scarlet and Robin were alright with her chosen activity.

 "Erica!" Scarlet hissed while Robin had already propelled herself from the seat she'd taken. Her freckled fingers grappled for the vial, tearing it away from the little girl with ease.

 Robin received a scowl in return but she couldn't have cared less if she tried. Her eyes narrowed upon Erica, a finger waving pointedly through the air, "We don't even know what this stuff is."

 The little girl's shoulders only heaved high, and fell back in place; a hearty shrug paired with a cock of the head. Erica's hair beads jingled in time, "It could be useful."

 "And how is this going to be useful if we don't even know what it is?"

 "We can survive down here for a long time without food, but if the human body doesn't get water... it will die."

 "Valid point," Robin chimed, and then her voice lowered to a drawl once more, "Thing is, that green goo isn't water."

 Erica almost seemed to weigh her options, for her head lolled to and fro, eyes fixated on the vial still simmering within Robin's clutch... then she tapped her foot, "No, but it is a liquid, and if it comes down to me drinking that shit, or dying of thirst... I drink."

 Scarlet couldn't quite remember the last time her head felt as though it would truly explode, sending a stream of crimson confetti to line the walls... but right then and there, still recovering from panic clawing at her skin and having the ride of a lifetime... Having Erica kick up a fuss about drinking some unintelligible liquid was slowly sending her mind into yet another spiral.

 Her temples ached and the dull pain behind her eyes swelled like a nasty bruise. Scarlet sighed, paint-smeared fingers pinching the bridge of her nose, her voice a hiss, "You aren't drinking that, Erica."

 The girl's eyes narrowed, mere slits forming to disguise her usual wide brown gaze — she contemplated spitting a witty comment to land at Scarlet's feet, to perhaps dish out a little comment about how damn motherly Scarlet could be... but then she swallowed the words whole as that vile droning sound filled the elevator once more.