itistolaugh | Mask or Menace IC Contact

It's, umm, twelve something. Happy Saturday.

[ She flops belly down on the bed and kicks her feet. How much could she get him to say? ]

So how rough is rough? Scale of one to ten.

Twenty.

[at least he's not lying about it?]

Oof. D'ya wanna come over and talk about it? Or talk around it. Or totally ignore it. Your call.

[ But then, he might not believe her good and pure intentions. She doesn't exactly have a stellar track record when it comes to keeping her hands to herself. ]

Or we can meet up somewhere, if you figure out where you are.

I don't know. I need to figure out what I'm going to do. I think...I think I messed up, Harley, but I don't understand what else I could have done.

[ There's a long silence on her end, before she finally takes a deep breath. ]

What you're going to do, Robert, is come over here and let me make you some tea and then you can figure it out somewhere that isn't a random payphone that might be near De Chima.

[...]

Okay.

[beat]

Do you...have a first aid kit?

[ Oh, Robert. ]

Yes. I'm in the government housing. Number six. Do you think you can get there?

...not without using the teleporter. And I...I can't, I'm sorry, I just...

[Harley might now notice a quiet tnktnktnktnk, sounding like metal rustling along itself. it's actually been background noise the entire time, but now, since Callaghan's actually having them move a bit...

(mainly to support him as he sort of half slides to the floor of the booth)

deep breaths, Robert, deep breaths and a few coughs and don't say you can't, you've already fucked up so badly]

...it'll...take me time.

[ Robert. Robert, Robert, Robert, what did you get into? ]

Look, I can come up there. Do you want me to come up there and get you? Get a hotel so you can get some rest, drive back down after.

[iT'S NOT HIS FAULT GOD DAMN IT

but he doesn't say that, he just breathes for a few moments]

[a good few moments, where the only sound is that and the rustle of the microbots. finally;]

...I'll pay you back for the room. And gas.

[that's a 'yes please']

Okay. Call me back after you get yourself to somewhere findable. I'll come pick you up as soon as I can.

All right.

[in, out. in, o-coughout. in...]

Thank you.

[ Harley hastily grabs a bag and shoves the barest essentials in there, first aid kit included. ]

Don't mention it. Seriously, stop talking. You sound super crappy. I'll see you soon.

Mmm. Bye.

[and with that he'll have the microbots hang up the phone for him, and for a few minutes, he'll just be lying there. it's a very good thing that they're able to carry his weight, because really, he just wants to stay down and pass out and yet he knows that would be an awful idea.

so, instead- he thanks the fact that it's late at night and there's very few people around to notice a mass of microbots that just happens to be carrying a person, finds enough about the place to figure out where he is- and will pass that information along.

the sooner he can sleep, though, the better.]

[ There's no place to rent a car, not this time of night, and he probably wouldn't want her to steal one. She checks in to a hotel first-- two beds, please and thank you-- and gets a cab.

She hates sitting in the backseat, especially cars with safety windows, for the obvious negative associations. The things she does for friends. They had better be friends now, after this errand.

The driver waits while she goes to fetch. ]

Hi, Puddin'. Lookin' good.

[well, he wouldn't call just anyone.

Callaghan has tucked himself out of sight by a building, though he'd given Harley an idea of where he'd be. when she comes to find him, the first thing she'll notice is the textured mass of black, blending in with the shadows.

then said mass begins to split, separating and falling towards the ground and revealing a Robert who has most definitely seen better days. it looks like he'd fallen in to a half-doze, though he's clearly recognized her.]

...funny.

[at least he's not devolved in to a coughing fit?]

[ Awww gross, what is that? Ants? Metal ants? Robot ants are a definite turnoff, turns out. She tiptoes around them to get to him. ]

Cab's waiting. Are these ... things... Can they fit in the trunk or something?

[ C'mere, baby, lean on Harley. There's a good boy. ]

[on the bright side, they don't seem inclined to crawl on her? they push Callaghan to his feet, and he stumbles a moment before leaning on Harley and letting her help him.]

Yeah. I...they'll do it, I just...need to tell them.

[he furrows his brow in brief focus, and the things respond accordingly; lingering behind them both, and being quite discreet as they slide for the vehicle. other than weighing it down a bit, there's only so much to really note their presence.

Callaghan, with his clothing scorched straight through at his back, and visibly exhausted...well. he's a bit more conspicuous]

Edited 2015-06-27 14:38 (UTC)

Jeez, Robert. A first aid kit doesn't come with a burn ward, you know.

[ But she won't mention a hospital. She knows very well the many reasons a person would want to stay low, take care of their own business. She helps him into the cab and pulls him against her in the back seat, running her fingers over his hair. ]

We'll be at the hotel in just a couple minutes. Get you cleaned up and then you can sleep all you want, okay?

Antibiotic ointment and gauze. [it's not third degree, he doesn't think- it hurts like hell, which means there isn't nerve damage. at this point, though, the pain has settled in and he's been relying heavily on some mental exercises...which are. only helping so much. mostly it's just enduring, and reminding himself he's alive, it could be worse, he's alive

he leans against Harley with closed eyes, nodding at her words- and relaxing at her touch. ~~how long has it been since someone did that?~~]

I know how to take care of a burn.

[ She talks for the entire ride to the hotel about nothing at all. Describing the scenery, saying the names of stores out loud, asking mundane questions to the increasingly irritated driver. She has nothing to say, but hopes that it will help keep him awake. If he falls asleep in the cab she isn't sure she can wake him up, and it would be a huge pain in the ass to drag him up to the room. Her hands smooth down his hair, only stopping to give him a little tickle or lightly tug his ear if he's too close to dozing.

God, she's glad their room is on the first floor. She pays the driver (but no tips for grumps!) and goes around to Robert's side to help him out. ]

We're here. Come on, sweetie, upsy daisy. Not much longer now.

[on some level, he understands what she's doing; on another, he is too damn tired for this. she does end up having to tug a bit, which ends up having him halfheartedly waving a hand to try and push hers away, but he is trying.

really.

honestly.

he doesn't waste energy on anything more than closed-mouth sounds of affirmation or acknowledgement, though, wearily moving to his feet and once again leaning on her. and, once again, those metal ants - the microbots - shift behind, a grouping moving up on his legs as if to provide an exoskeleton's support.

it's...actually a very good thing that the technokinesis has them so much more responsive than the mask and band. it seems exhausting to simply imagine walking, much less do it, but Harley will be able to get him moving and in to the room.

only so much is promised once he's inside and in a position to collapse, though.]

[ She pulls him into the bathroom where the light is strongest and pushes him to sit on the toilet lid. No chance to get to the bed, sorry. If she doesn't get his back cleaned and bandaged first thing then he'll really feel like hell in the morning. She works fast, if not very gently, and there's no fumbling or uncertainty in what to do. This is a situation she's been in more than a few times. ]

Is this all of it or do I need to strip you down?

[it's awful hard to imagine feeling worse than this.

now that he's in the light and there's the real opportunity to examine things, it's clear that he's been in some sort of blaze - or, well, clearer. there's a few strain burns on his front, but the majority of the damage seems to have been on his back- and there's a few bumps and scrapes, but that sort of thing is mostly superficial.

mostly.

he grimaces and hisses a bit, in pain, but otherwise lets her work- he hasn't nearly enough energy to wonder about where she learned about of it.]

'sall. Backdraft...hit me from behind.

[ The smaller, superficial wounds will have to do with just cleaning for now. The first aid kit has a limited supply, and she wants to be sure there's enough for a change of bandages after he shower in the morning. He's gross and he reeks of smoke, but if she made him do it now he might, like. Drown or something. Fall over and break a hip. Old man problems. ]

Think you can get to bed or do I gotta carry you?

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time for action WINK WINK

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