It's been an eventful week [intro, open]

[inthishouse]

Characters: Will LaMontagne, and OPEN
Date: Feb. 10
Location: Building EA-1C, Earth Sector, then wider places in the city. (Making a loop around the center of the city, kinda slipping in and out of different sectors.)
Situation: Will is wounded, without painkillers, and needs help.
Warnings/Rating: Descriptions of pain, injuries, mention of kidnapping and abduction.

Six hours of carriage ride, and the pain gets progressively worse. He'd just taken a dose, hadn't he? -- then he was pulled from the water, shaking like a leaf. But every jostle, every bump he feels right in the root of his arm, right where the bullet buried itself.

By the time he's left in this apartment, this suite, whatever it is, the wound is a steady ache. Got his arm cradled against his chest, trying to find the position of least strain. It's not unendurable, god knows he had worse while there was a gun pointed at his head, but it's deeply distracting. He can't manage to settle, instead rattling around restlessly in this place that's nearly the size of the house he and JJ share. His mind doesn't have time to focus on what the hell is going on; it's too focused on the tear in his shoulder.

He considers pulling up the computer, but decides against it. Reaches for his jacket, gingerly eases his right arm in, then his left. Aspirin. Dream-town has to have aspirin, right? That's gotta be what he does first.

His body language is tight, as he slips out of the suite. Shoulders hunched, eyes down, and it's in this condition that he steps out onto the streets. He feels awfully out-of-place, exposed, like wearing a uniform on the night shift in the French Quarter.

Will's good at staying unobtrusive, but the further he goes, the worse it hurts.

Until he has to stop, leaning back against a wall, left palm pressed against his right shoulder, taking long, slow breaths. Okay, this, this hurts worse than when the wound was fresh. Pain is a knife twisting in his shoulder; it's eating away at him, from the inside.

He just needs a second to collect himself. Then he'll go back.

Comments

[occupygotham]

The exit from the cafe was unremarkable, as was the intelligence Bane had gathered from a few hours of anonymously scanning the network. This place held little opportunity in its present state, and it was becoming clear that much needed to be remedied to make it more...hospitable.

Patience was key, in a place such as this. Patience, and caution. Such was the reason why Bane had chosen a local in the Earth sector to make his observations, as a cautious man did not work near where he slept. Especially with unfamiliar technology such as the server that had been supplied to him.

Keeping to the shadows, Bane was not surprised to see a man leaning against a wall breathing in pain. Such an occurrence was an ordinary thing, and not worth stopping for. After all, soon it was time for dinner.

However, Bane found his steps slowing as the man's profile became more apparent in the darkness. A very familiar profile.

"Brother. I had not thought to see you here."

[inthishouse]

He's breathing. He's breathing, slow and mechanically even, forcing a little more pain out with each breath he takes. It's a way to feel in control of his body, rooted in his lungs, and even though he knows it's bullshit, it's all he's got. His nerves leave him with a knife of pain twisting in his shoulder, and all he can do is breathe.

His head whips around at the voice, the one that is -- yes, addressing him. He looks the figure down and up, and up, and thinks that this is power, here. This is a bulk of muscle that reads brutality, but this man moves as easily as a dancer.

Only after noting this does Will's gaze move up to the mask. It's not the weirdest thing he's seen today, but he does wonder about it.

Pulls away from the wall, straightening up, even though it pulls at the tendons in his shoulder. He just feels that he should stand in front of this man's eyes.

His mind is sluggish, dumb. He struggles to understand what was said to him, to put it in a context that makes sense. Brother? He doesn't have any brothers. "What do you mean, see me here?"

so late sorry DX

[occupygotham]

Immediately, Bane recognizes something in this man that does not belong to Barsad. Pain, maybe. Or the acknowledgement of it. But he still manages to pry himself away from the wall and stand. Bane knows he has only scratched the surface of Tu Vishan, and the irregularities between his personal knowledge and what he has encountered continue to perplex and aggravate.

He takes a step closer. There is nothing to fear from this man. If he is Barsad, he will not strike. And if he isn't, well. A man wounded to this degree was not even worth considering an obstacle.

"What do you remember of the fire."

[inthishouse]

The fire? His mind goes right back to the explosion at the bank. They'd been protected in the vault, the closed door, but it still had been one the loudest sound that Will had ever heard. They told him that the bank had burned, above.

Was he one of Izzy's? There's the same sharp-edged fascination there, the same terrifying free-fall feeling standing close to them. -- But, no, that's a stupid question. Not all killers are the same.

And he is certain he's standing by a killer, now.

"I remember plenty about fires," he says. "But nothing about you." And there's a steadiness to him. He's not an idiot, sure he knows he should be afraid. He's outmatched, the man before him is more dangerous than a naked gun, and there's nowhere to run. But that, maybe paradoxically, is the sort of situation where Will grows the calmest. There's no choice but to go forward. So forward he goes.