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ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴅᴛᴇᴀᴍ ᴏғ ʜᴀᴅʀɪᴇʟ ([personal profile] hadrielmods) wrote in [community profile] hadriel_logs2016-04-15 10:03 am

Event Log: Assassin

Who: Everyone!
What: The Assassin event
Where: Throughout the city
When: April 15th-23rd
Warnings: Inevitable character death, potential horror and gore and unpleasantness. Please remember to tag for warnings in the header if it things get too bad!

The morning of April 15th in Hadriel is cheerful, with artificial light streaming through your window. Your blankets are warm, jabberjays are shrieking, and you're probably going to experience a murder attempt today.

Maybe it'll be from a stranger, maybe it'll be from a friend, but the bottom line is that everybody is after somebody and nobody is safe (...okay, twelve people are safe, but that's beside the point). Time will only tell when you'll be overcome by that murderous rage and try to kill someone else. The best thing you can probably do at this point is stay calm, keep your head high, and try not to die for the next eight days.

Helpfully, Rage will have restocked her armory for the event, for those of you have yet to arm themselves. Additionally, for a limited time only, the armory will be stocked with bear traps, tripwire (in both 'general wire' and 'barbed wire' flavor), and voice recorders. Use all of them, use none of them, just get on out there and kill each other!

Oh, and one last thing...

► This log covers April 15th-23rd.
► Feel free to make your own logs as well!
► Please tag headers of threads with content warnings where they apply
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!
► Did your assassin catch up to you? Please remember to hit up our death post!
circumitus: Captain Morgan didnt let me down when i stand up it feels like the world is trying to hand me rainbows. (i hate your face)

Rey | Closed and Open

[personal profile] circumitus 2016-04-16 09:02 pm (UTC)(link)
I. Open (April 15th-22nd)

Not even a week had gone by since Rey's return, and already some new bullshit was happening. People were acting strange and it didn't take long for her to put the pieces of the puzzle together.

It was going to be another one of those months again.

Though it was a heavy risk to take, Rey isn't one to hole herself up somewhere and wait out for the events to pass. Not when there are people out there who are being hunted by one another against their will. Instead, she can be found patrolling the streets, seeking out anyone in need of help. When she isn't on patrol, she's sneaking into the armory to peruse the selection, hoping not to run into anyone who may target her next. So far, no dice.

Mostly healed from the injuries she'd sustained back home, her face is mostly back to normal and she can walk on her own two feet. Small miracles in harsh times, it would see.

I. Closed to Liquid Snake and later Carlisle Longinmouth (April 23rd)

It doesn't take a rocket scientist for one to figure out that something is wrong, and Rey knows better than to wander outside unprepared now more than ever. After all, she'd given her word that she had no intentions of dying anytime soon, and for the most part she's not staggering in pain of her existing wounds. There is something to be said about not being human, and there are certainly some rare perks to having her father's cell line in her body.

More recently she's ventured the city streets, sporting her armor with its hood covering her head and whatever weapons she can scrounge from the armory. She doesn't know how this rage thing works -- if they need to see her face in order to trigger the effects. It's a risk she feels is worth taking if she can help someone evade their would-be assailants.

This may or may not be the case, when her intuition picks up on the sense that she's being followed. Though from where, she does not yet know. Foolish as it may be, she stops and pulls down her hood, glancing around for any sign of potential stalkers.
liquid_serpent: credit: shinkawa (a man lead by lies)

[personal profile] liquid_serpent 2016-04-16 09:16 pm (UTC)(link)
It was almost as if the god Rage had spoken to Liquid telepathically. He knew what he had to do and that was why he was following this woman. This complete stranger he'd never met in his life. His hands were gripped around his FAMAS rifle, as he stalked her through the streets, keeping an eye out for bodyguards, friends or anyone else that might aid her. He knew what he had to do.

He had to kill her. There was no way around it. She polluted the air he breathed and therefore she must die. Liquid narrowed his eyes when he saw her hood go down and he quickly darted in an alleyway averting her potential gaze. A few moments later and he was back to tracking and following her every move. He had to get closer to land the shot. One bullet to the back of the head and it would all be over. He even chuckled softly to himself at what was about to happen. Cocking his rifle sights to his right eye he aimed. He never missed.

"Time to die."

He muttered, as he aimed the rifle, crouched to steady himself and fired the bullet at the back of her head.
Edited 2016-04-16 21:16 (UTC)
circumitus: I held one once. Then I washed my hands and rinsed my mouth out with wine. (babies are disgusting)

[personal profile] circumitus 2016-04-17 04:39 am (UTC)(link)
Her primal instincts were telling her to keep moving. During her patrols she very rarely stopped until she made it back to her apartment, where even then she couldn't sleep. Not when she was fighting her own rage boiling inside of her. She had fought those urges before. She could fight them again. But not everyone has had the "luxury" of living and dying several times and living again like Rey has. Not everyone gets to experience it to know how to exercise self-restraint.

That's why she's out here. That's why she's risking her life, even though she has no obligation to the people here. Nothing that should tie her to her fellow prisoners, especially the object of her own anger.

Though that isn't her. That isn't Rey. She knows that.

That's when she turns and, for a brief moment, catches a glimpse of movement. A flicker.

By then it's too late.
liquid_serpent: credit: shinkawa (fighting)

[personal profile] liquid_serpent 2016-04-18 08:09 am (UTC)(link)
Liquid saw her try turn and face who was following her and this pleased him. He could see her brief panic at seeing him and this only fuelled his desire to get closer and see her bleed. His face was a mask of rage, almost like an animal. He fired another shot close to where her legs were seeing what she would do next.

"You have to die." He rasped, his voice full of anger and hatred.
Edited 2016-04-19 06:38 (UTC)
circumitus: Completely decimated and my hand was all bloody and covered with glass. Weird dude, never saw him again ever since. (got into a bar fight last night)

[personal profile] circumitus 2016-04-19 06:44 am (UTC)(link)
It wasn't too long ago when Rey was in her home world, allowing a woman who she had once wronged the chance to put a bullet in her brain.

Now there is this man she's never seen before taking that chance, for no reason whatsoever. It's no mystery as to why, though. She knows that people are acting strange, and Rey has since learned to disconnect herself from her own emotions, bottling up the rage so it can become something else. Of course, not everyone has this practice. Hence there is no point in trying to talk him down. Not like she has the right sense to after that headshot.

Blood is sliding down the side of her face where the bullet had grazed her skull. Ringing fills her ears and she can't make out what the man is saying, but sees that his lips are moving. She just barely hears the bullet impact the ground by her foot, but holds her ground. Squeezing her hand into a fist as her left eye squints through the blood flowing over it. It isn't the first time she's been shot, or shot at.

Go ahead, just try it. She's lived more lives than this one, anyway.
liquid_serpent: (pissed off)

[personal profile] liquid_serpent 2016-04-21 06:18 am (UTC)(link)
Liquid smirked and let out a low chuckle. The woman was injured. That was a start. Now he could down to really dishing out some pain. All the rage inside of him bursting to get out.

"Afraid, woman? You should be. Have another shot!" He laughed deeply, as he squeezed the trigger and sent another bullet towards her shoulder. He was going to play with her, judge her reaction before killing her. This was causing Liquid great satisfaction and deep down he had no idea why. This wasn't Snake, his brother, so why was he doing this? All he knew was that he had to do this.
circumitus: 10 stitches. scar on forehead. totally going tell ppl my parents died fighting Voldemort. (fell off bed. face first.)

[personal profile] circumitus 2016-04-21 05:34 pm (UTC)(link)
Afraid? Like hell she is. She's anticipated something like this happening since she felt the rage towards a girl she had never met consume her.

Either way, the force of the bullet sends her to the ground. Beyond the impact, she doesn't make a noise at all. Pain is something she's all too familiar with.

This? Is nothing.

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dogsanddaughters: (003)

April 16th

[personal profile] dogsanddaughters 2016-04-17 12:18 am (UTC)(link)
[Quite honestly, Miriam hasn't noticed anything is up just yet. She doesn't know the people in Hadriel well enough to really judge when they're being weird versus just...themselves. Either way, she's got Barnaby and a jacket that's nearly bulletproof, so Miriam feels pretty safe wandering out on her own. Plus she's been cooped up inside forever and that's boring.

Awful. Truly.

Besides, she's never been on a planet before! And this place has a river. Currently Miriam's kneeling on the bank, giggling as Barnaby splashes around after the darting fish.]
Get 'im, buddy! Get the fish!

[She's not looking behind her.]
circumitus: Seriously. Its 80 proof rum that was 8 bucks for a liter. I'm afraid. (you don't want any of i have)

[personal profile] circumitus 2016-04-17 04:47 am (UTC)(link)
[If anyone can sympathize not wanting to be cooped up, it's Rey. Unfortunately, she isn't in a sympathizing mood, especially today of all days, and especially not when she catches sight of a certain girl who she's never met before.

[There is no rhyme or reason to the boiling hatred rising up from the pit of her stomach. It's a feeling that Rey has reserved for so few people and, with those people being worlds away, was not a concern on Rey's mind right now. There wasn't much else going in on her head, in fact, save for how there is one bloodthirsty motherfucker here and that motherfucker happens to be Rey.

[She was on her way to check on the dam, still flinching from the pain of her trip home when her feet begin to divert towards the girl by the river. She should be quiet. Covert. Make this quick and painless. Easy. Too easy. She isn't suspecting--




[Rather than a warning, just one simple word comes out, announcing her presence. It's all Rey can do right now.]
dogsanddaughters: (009)

[personal profile] dogsanddaughters 2016-04-17 02:46 pm (UTC)(link)
[Oh, a new person. Miriam turns with a smile, only to see the woman's face, and feel the expression fade. There's something sharp there, in the set of her mouth and the way her eyes are focused so intently on Miriam. Like she wants to kill something. Miriam swallows, taking a step back.

Barnaby trots out of the water, tail up and ears pricked, and goes to stand in front of Miriam. A shield. His ruff is up, a stiff line of fur going all the way down his spine, but he doesn't growl. Yet.]

Lady? I'm not doing anything...
circumitus: Your first mistake was not throwing your beer at the RA and running. (i literally hate you so fucking much)

[personal profile] circumitus 2016-04-17 06:25 pm (UTC)(link)
[There is no desire to hurt the dog. Rey's beef, whatever it may be, lands with the girl. Something about her -- something about this person she's never met in her life...

[Wrong. It's wrong. This girl has done nothing wrong. For fuck's sake, she's just a
kid. And the urge to go for her throat and squeeze until blood veins pulse from her eye sockets is all too tempting.

["I am not me."]

No, you're not... [Something about that just pisses her off more than anything, though.

[It's good that the dog places himself between them when he does. Rey blinks. Her feelings have nothing to do with the animal and everything to do with this stranger.]

You need to leave. [She just barely manages to speak when all she wants to do is lash out. Her jaw clenches and her hands ball into fists. This could end so quickly, so easily. But no. No, she won't.]
dogsanddaughters: (011)

[personal profile] dogsanddaughters 2016-04-17 06:37 pm (UTC)(link)
[Barnaby's growiling now, that low rumbling sound that makes people think about monsters in the dark, and his ruff is all the way up. The first time Miriam saw it, she thought it looked kinda cool - like Barnaby had a mohawk, all the sudden.

It means something else, though. Miriam knows that now. She takes a step back, eyes never leaving the woman. There's real hate on the lady's face, like she's thinking about killing somebody and Miriam just happens to be in her eye-line.

Not good.]

I didn't do anything.

[One step back, two steps back, Barnaby shadowing her all the way - just one more, and she'll have enough of a head-start to make a run for it.]
circumitus: Completely decimated and my hand was all bloody and covered with glass. Weird dude, never saw him again ever since. (got into a bar fight last night)

that video is oddly cute and terrifying at the same time

[personal profile] circumitus 2016-04-17 07:57 pm (UTC)(link)
[Every inch of muscle in her entire body has gone stiff. Rey isn't armed with any weapons, but she doesn't need to. It would be easy enough to bash the girl's brains in with her own hands. That would be wrong, though. Her brother's voice is an echo inside her head, telling her that it's wrong. Except she doesn't need her brother to tell her this anymore. She knows. SHE KNOWS...

[She clutches her chest, her fingers digging into the old wound that she had walked away from only a few days ago. It should be mostly healed now, but if she opens it, she should be able to focus her attention elsewhere. Not on how much she wants to make this girl bleed.]

Run. [Speaking is hard. Between the pure red rage and the pain she's now inflicting on herself, it's like a thousand needles stabbing into her tongue.] Get home or somewhere safe. Something's happening out here.

[It's taking every bit of willpower she has right now just to remain composed enough to talk to someone that she, right now, hates more than anything. It isn't right, she knows. There are people by far more deserving of this emotion than the girl.]

aw. man, i love rots <3

[personal profile] circumitus - 2016-04-17 21:53 (UTC) - Expand
ichaer: (musing)

april 17th

[personal profile] ichaer 2016-04-18 03:51 am (UTC)(link)
[ two days in and ciri is beginning to miss the mirrors.

these two days have made her more paranoid than usual. she constantly looks behind her, hand at the ready to draw her sword and ears listening out for any sense of movements. fighting dangerous creatures in small tunnels could be difficult but monsters were predictable, you could learn their strengths and figure out their movements after a few run-ins. the others trapped in this cave were not as predictable.

each had varying different strengths and weaknesses atop many unknown powers. her own powers could give her an edge (or a chance to escape as needed) but there was simply too many unknowns and it's setting her on edge.

part of her thinks to stay indoors, wait it out and hope for the best but she cannot think of the defenseless ones out here on their own. for all the unknown powers, many didn't have a clue how to fight or how to even hold a sword. she couldn't sit back, safe with her own abilities when someone could be in trouble.

ultimately, she finds herself wandering near the armory and breathes out a sigh. ciri wouldn't be surprised to find this place empty and cannot help peeking in. needless to say, she definitely isn't surprised to find someone in there.

It seems Rage's little gift has become quite useful as of late. [ she says, eyeing the walls. ] I can't remember ever seeing so many empty spots in here before.
circumitus: Because you're marine grade... You rascal. (you need 400 proof or marine proof)

[personal profile] circumitus 2016-04-18 04:12 am (UTC)(link)
[It has been a whole day and the primal rage from having seen her target hasn't faded away. Even though that girl hasn't been on her sights, her mind keeps wandering towards how much part of her wants her target dead. That isn't right, though. It isn't her. She knows that now and it didn't take long for her to put two and two together.

[After concluding that they were all being pitted against each other, Rey presumes that it's only a matter of time before someone goes after her. Whether they do it because they feel the same hatred towards her or they're trying to protect the girl she "wants" to kill, it doesn't matter. And she has no intention of dying anytime soon. She didn't fight for her life for the weeks she had spent home only to come back and die here.

[Besides, while she could hide away and wait for the worst to blow over, there are others out here who could use help. What kind of soldier would she be if she crawled into some hole like a coward? She isn't afraid of combat, and she
definitely isn't afraid of the gods' challenge.

[When the doors open to the armory, Rey is ready to grab a knife from the shelf and fling it at whoever was coming near. But then, the woman makes friendly conversation, and Rey slackens her grip.]

They've been going fast. [She casts the woman a sidelong glance.] You any good with these sorts of weapons?

[Both sizing up the stranger and testing to see whether she was going to turn on Rey are both important factors to this very simple query.]
ichaer: (blunt)

[personal profile] ichaer 2016-04-19 10:22 pm (UTC)(link)
[ for what it's worth, she keeps her hands up and clenched around the buckle of her sword belt near her chest. tiredly adjusting the weight of the two hanging on her back but nothing more beyond looking at everything present... or rather what was left.

ciri can imagine how well this will go. most didn't know how to even hold a sword, let alone wield it in combat. honestly, there will likely be a number of accidental wounds happening on top of the general craziness.

Swords, yes. I never had much luck with the two handed ones though. [ not that she couldn't use one but it would likely be extra effort to work it into her own style. ] It's a shame that this place became needed in such a way.
circumitus: (503): forewarning i'll probably have done those drugs with you (i wanna bring you to show and tell)

[personal profile] circumitus 2016-04-20 12:09 am (UTC)(link)
[Firearms are more of Rey's thing, not swords. She's pretty good with a knife, and that only goes so far when dealing with many of the threats in this city. Though it could come in handy against whoever may be targeting her.

[She slips the knife into its sheath, before clipping it at her belt. Surely she will make use of it later on. For better or worse.]

It's a shit day when you'd rather be fighting the creatures. [Despite her phrasing, her tones are stone cold and distant. Robotic.]
ichaer: (fatalistic)

[personal profile] ichaer 2016-04-20 12:58 am (UTC)(link)
[ even though she has visited many worlds that existed far, far in the future - ciri never quite got the hang of any sort of automatic weaponry. her sword was more reliable, it was familiar and simply felt right.

besides, it helped that her sort of weaponry was in high supply here. she considers switching out her own dagger for something newer, something sharper and more durable but hangs back.

I fight monsters for a living back home. It's what I'm used to and something I'm fine to continue here. I don't fight people, I don't like fighting others trapped here like this. [ she frowns, short of full on scowling. ] I hate it.
circumitus: What could possibly go wrong? (11% beer and firearms)

[personal profile] circumitus 2016-04-20 09:11 pm (UTC)(link)
[Killing people had been part of her job -- she was a soldier, after all. She had to do what she could to survive. In war it's either you or them. In some of her old lives that she's lived, she had been someone who was fine with this reality. Others, not so much.

[The old Rey would have divulged this with little tact, but she has more of a sense now than to try and make enemies. Especially now.]

Some would say that's a good thing -- that you hate it. [She pauses.] Have you, um... met someone, who you wanted to kill?

[Okay, that wasn't very tactful.]

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tongueamok: (➣ it's unfortunate to feel such guilt)

April 23rd AHOY FRIEND

[personal profile] tongueamok 2016-04-22 08:59 am (UTC)(link)
Thus far, the city has proven a headache for Carlisle. There'd been monsters when he'd arrived, and there are possibly murderers in the streets now; the man he owes amends has no idea who Carlisle is or why he is owed said amends in the first place. Worst was when his arm was mangled by a killer box -- while the injury wasn't a problem for a trained healer such as himself (excruciatingly painful, yes, but not a problem), clothing is another matter.

There's not much he can do about the gaping holes in his right glove. His gloves are attached to his undershirt, and are meant to cover his arms all the way into the sleeves of his jacket; the garment is common wear for channellers like himself. However, with all the tears from the mimic's massive fangs, it hardly covers much skin on his right arm anymore, the rips exacerbated by the stretch of the fabric every time he puts it on. He's covered the majority of his arm in a bandage for the time being, intact parts of the glove peeking out from the top and bottom. It'll have to do until he can find a suitable replacement.

The blood from the wound that ruined his glove has been problematic, as well. While the stains came out of his jacket easily enough, the tabard has taken more work to scour clean. The work has, thankfully, kept him occupied: with the news on the network of killers on the loose, he's holed himself up in his apartment, as per Miriam's warning. He's always glad to stay out of sight when dangers are afoot. He can't help his curiosity though, that nagging at the back of his mind that he could be doing more, especially for those who had already helped him. His goddess favors those who repay their debts, after all.

Living at the top of one of the Spires, he's taken up the old habit of people-watching, spotting passersby far below his vantage high above the streets as they go about their business. The window in his apartment is sizable, making for a nice spot to sit, scrub, and appreciate the fact that he's back in some form of civilization. It's certainly not home, but it's a far cry from the jungle, and he's grateful for that.

He's in the middle of washing his tabard for the fourth time, his hands idly scrubbing away at that stubborn stain, when Carlisle spots him: that sharp, blond hair and pale, bare chest stands out against the darker streets. It's Mr. Shirtless himself.

"Hm. Guess parading about on the communicators wasn't enough for you, was it?" Carlisle asks with a sneer, rolling his eyes before bringing them back to the stained tabard in his hands. He dips it into the bucket at his feet and scrubs a little harder, taking out his annoyance on the blood tarnishing his precious vestment. "Look at me, a shameless example of just why this cit—"

And then he hears the first gunshot. Even from his apartment, it's loud and dissonant enough to startle him: he stiffens reflexively, dropping his tabard and the bar of soap he'd been scrubbing it with into the wash pail. Did he hear that? Did he just hear what he thought he heard?

Wiping his hands on his jacket, he creeps to the window, staying below the sill, unsure if he's in danger or not. He peers into the streets, trying to stay low enough to not be seen, but hoping to figure out exactly what the commotion is so he can determine whether or not he needs to be hiding in the closet. There's Mr. Shirtless, now poised at the end of an alley, and—

Oh. Oh that is a gun in his arm, isn't it?

Carlisle's eyes follow the direction he's aiming, but he can't see the target of Mr. Shirtless' malice. The point is that while Carlisle himself is in no danger, someone else undoubtedly is. Or worse, they're dead. He dips below the sill again, covering his mouth with his hand.

"I should stay here," he says immediately, verbalizing his initial thought. "He's not after me. It's not my business."

He lets out a whine from the back of his throat as he inwardly rebuts his own statement. "It isn't. I mean, I could go down there and, perhaps once he's gone, find whomever it is he's shooting at. Heal them up, bring him to justice. This place must have some kind of..." He flexes his fingers as he gestures vaguely into the air, literally grasping for words as though they were dangling before him. "Law enforcement. A constable, police, anything. Do those 'gods' care that murders are being committed?"

He knows the answer to that the moment he asks it: one of them is likely causing these murders, perhaps getting people to work for them. He had been told they fed on emotions, after all. Murders cause fear, much like he is experiencing himself right that moment. With his terrible indecision, he realizes belatedly, he is indirectly helping the false gods.

Carlisle kicks himself, determination welling in his gut at that thought. "Well, now I have to go down there. I can't sit up here and be afraid. I serve the Camisou and no one else, and... and..."

He trails off, his hands shaking as he pushes himself off the floor; the second gunshot rings out behind him, echoing all the way to his window. "I can do this," he says in a feeble attempt at encouragement; it fails, as usual, and he puts a hand to this holy symbol for comfort instead, as though the talisman would protect him from harm. "Just... just stay low and... try not to get shot."

Leaving his tabard to soak, he heads out the door, starting the long run down the spiral steps as the third gunshot rings through the air.
Edited 2016-04-22 13:01 (UTC)
circumitus: Completely decimated and my hand was all bloody and covered with glass. Weird dude, never saw him again ever since. (got into a bar fight last night)


[personal profile] circumitus 2016-04-22 08:01 pm (UTC)(link)
Do the gods care? That is a very good question. From Rey's personal experience with them, they seem to express an astounding lack of empathy towards those that they've kept prisoners here. Not that she is much better right now -- she doesn't feel much empathy for anyone, or anything at all. There is no anger or hatred over what has happened to her, or towards the man responsible. Not everyone is equipped to contain their rage like she can.

No, feelings aren't the primary concern here. What's a concern is the fact that she's bleeding in the head. The shot still stings her upper forehead where the bullet grazed, but otherwise doesn't prove to be fatal. One could thank having a metal skull for that.

It is a shame that she's used up what little spark was left of Hope's blessing the other week, because it sure as hell would have been helpful to still have. She wouldn't be staggering into the most recently renovated spire to try and scrounge up a first aid or something.

They have first aid in the apartments, don't they?


"All right. Have this under control," she mutters under her breath, leaning against the door to the spire entrance. She takes a step forward and stumbles, catching herself on the stair railing.

Turns out, she doesn't really have this under control. Much as she'd like to think otherwise, she doesn't have much of anything under control...
tongueamok: (➣ that was entirely unexpected)

[personal profile] tongueamok 2016-04-22 09:42 pm (UTC)(link)
If there's one thing Carlisle has discovered in his short time living at the very top of Spire Four, it's that going up the stairs to his apartment is far more taxing than going down them. Though his gut would rather him stay inside, safe and sound, his long legs barrel down the stairwell step by step, urging him to move faster, lest he change his mind on the whole "braving the streets for the good of someone else" thing.

Fortunately that someone else has already found her way into the tower, saving him the trip into the streets; unfortunately, she's in the way as he finally makes his way to the bottom, and he's going entirely too fast to stop himself.

Not that he doesn't try. The instant he rounds the edge of the spiral stairs and sees someone there, he grabs the railing -- he stumbles and nearly rams himself into the wall, but he stops inches short of her.

And then he just stares with his mouth hanging open, because that's what he does when he sees someone else he recognizes -- someone he's on fair terms with, no less -- and she's bleeding from the head.
circumitus: 10 stitches. scar on forehead. totally going tell ppl my parents died fighting Voldemort. (fell off bed. face first.)

[personal profile] circumitus 2016-04-22 10:54 pm (UTC)(link)
Blood is pouring down the side of Rey's face, over her eye that's squeezed shut. Because getting blood in your eye is just gross.

She stops as well when Carlisle halts in front of her. It's easy enough to interpret his expression as having something to do with her current state. It's not every day you find someone walking away from a headshot, but here is Rey in all of her metal skeleton glory, somehow still on her feet. Sad to say, this isn't the worst hit she's ever taken.

"Unless you're a doctor, would suggest moving so this--" Rey points to the gash in her skull. "--can get taken care of."

Why she's taking refuge in the spires and not rushing straight to the clinic? Well, the spire was closer and more convenient. If nothing else she could find someplace to clean out the wounds.
tongueamok: (➣ this just got very heavy indeed)

[personal profile] tongueamok 2016-04-22 11:11 pm (UTC)(link)
Carlisle is frozen solid for another two seconds, then his mind catches up with the rest of him, as it had apparently been left somewhere near the top of the stairwell and didn't follow as closely as it should have. What this means, unfortunately, is that his thoughts jumble together all at once, dumped into a pile like an entire box of puzzle pieces that should fit together into a cohesive picture, but likely won't, as some bits from an entirely different puzzle got shoved in with the rest at some point and no one quite knows where they should go.

"I'm- Miss- no—" He pries one of his hands off the railing and tries again, holding it up as though to give her pause. "I mean, what I'm- it's me- I can help you!"

Yes, that was indeed a beautiful, coherent statement he put together out of all those pieces. He can save the rest of those thoughts for later, when she's not bleeding from her head and possibly about to die. Good fortune has brought him one of the other people to whom he owes amends -- and even better is that there's something he can actually do for her.
circumitus: You're not even wearing it. (lemme borrow that top)

[personal profile] circumitus 2016-04-22 11:46 pm (UTC)(link)
Once again, it's easy enough to chalk up Carlisle's stammering to possible surprise. Not over the fact that he already knows her (Rey has no idea), but her possible injuries. That's enough to make almost anyone balk.

"Fine. Let's get out of here."

She doesn't know if she's been followed here, but she'd rather get out of sight and hopefully out of a certain someone's mind sooner rather than later. For someone who just walked away from a gunshot wound, she doesn't appear to be in any state of urgency.

Despite her condition, she brushes past Carlisle easily enough and makes her way to the lower apartment, her shoulder dragging across the wall. She checks to see if it's open first, and then helps herself inside. If he isn't just blowing smoke out of his ass and is telling the truth, she trusts that Carlisle will follow.

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