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won't someone spread the ocean over my head? [open]

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won't someone spread the ocean over my head? [open]

Post by William Adler on 20/7/2017, 00:14

Not many things in William's life were difficult. He could pull off being a girl, he could read, he could write, he could talk his way out of unnecessary jail time. But right now, he could barely breath. It was difficult to walk, difficult to see. He could feel pain, but he wasn't sure where it was coming from. At first it was his leg, then it would move to his arm, and then it would spread over his chest, and back to his leg again. The trail of blood behind him revealed his exit from the Underground. He couldn't see it, but he knew it was there. Much like the bruises and cuts all over his body. His poor leather jacket was in ruins. He loved that jacket.

Sweat and blood, both of them now one and the same, made his loose hair stick to his face and neck. His left eyelid lower than the right and more purple than his favorite performance dress. It was an unruly image, and if it wasn't for the bright stars above him he would even worry about it. But as it was, he didn't give two damns. All that mattered at the moment was walking back home, and getting his limbs under control. The rest could wait out the night. Marian didn't have anything to do for the next three days. Enough time to heal things that makeup couldn't hide.

His walk was slow, his right hand constantly gripping at anything it could get a hold of, his left limp at his side. It was difficult. He underestimated his injuries. So much so that after two steps out a back alley, he fell to his knees, and two seconds later, his whole body hit the ground. Now he knew the source of his immediate pain: it was his head; and it was bad. With what little strength he had, he turned his eyes to the sky and left out a breath, an attempt to laugh. They had taken that from him too, and it hurt more than the loss of his monthly salary. Would he die here? Probably not. One thing was for sure. It was a difficult moment in his life, and he'd almost forgotten how to deal with those.
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William Adler

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Re: won't someone spread the ocean over my head? [open]

Post by Safer Sephiroth on 20/7/2017, 02:50

With his Survey Corps 3DMG off of his body to show that he's off of duty, Safer starts to walk in the calm night outside on the local streets within the walls just to enjoy a nice little gaze at life. The gentle night breeze swooshed towards his body causing his hair and cape-like jacket push back moving around. He ignored the calm wind like everyone who also outside this night did. Not a lot of people were walking or driving around as it's kind of later in the cold night. However, once Safer turned the corner nearby and walks a little bit forward, he then see's some random person fall onto the ground as if they were seriously injured or just really drunk.

He jogs towards the person who seemed to be hurt, just laying on the ground looking up. Once close enough, Safer gets on one knee close to the ground and ask the person if he was hurt or not, trying to figure out the situation. He asks kindly "Sir are you okay? You look hurt. What happened?" While he said this, he looked around just once seeing if anybody had been running away after hurting this innocent-looking person. Safer looks down once again at the person to see if he would reply back or if he could talk back at all. He quickly notices the stranger seems kind of feminine but ignores it as that is no importance right now. What is important is to get this man to some sort of hospital. While the two conversated, others nearby and across the street just stared and watched from a far as if they were too selfish to come help him.

Anything can happen; multiple ideas were racing through Safer's mind. Someone could've to beat him up, stabbed him, was in a middle of a late-night bar brawl which didn't seem like the case at all. It's quite easy to tell the difference from a drunk person from a highly injured person. Well if this was some sort of a beat-up situation, Safer can definitely help him out as he's quite known for both combat and revenge. However, it didn't like that either, it seemed like something else more complex than any of those idea's he came up with so he clearly wanted answers to this. Justice must be served.
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Safer Sephiroth

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Re: won't someone spread the ocean over my head? [open]

Post by Alan Katlewande on 20/7/2017, 22:59

Alan paced through the neat streets of Mitras, tired as always. His weariness was not physical, but mental - spending hours upon hours trying to line up clues, suspects, anything that could as a decent angle of attack on the case of the Red Titan. Alas, the thread he was looking for was as well hidden... as the shifter himself. Alan sighed. He needed a break, to loosen up from all the thinking. He was thinking of a decent place to sit for a cup of tea when he noticed something peculiar.

A crowd. Un-neatness. A disturbance in the calm and peaceful life of the rich and powerful citizens of Mitras. Alan got closer and noticed a green-cloaked figure hunched over a woman. Alan starts pacing through the crowds of people, and overhears their murmurs.
"...Just popped out of that alleyway..."
Alan moved through the swarm of people, gently moving people aside with his hands.
"...Blood everywhere! A trail of..."
Alan started walking quicker, muttering "Excuse me," and "Coming through" to the curious citizens.
"...Soldier came in to help him..."
Alan finally got through the crowd, and looked at the scene before him. It was not a woman laying on the ground, but a man. And a man he knew. So was the greencloak.
"Safer." Alan said, his voice hoarse and distraught "Go get a medic. I'll take it from here."

From the murmurs of the crowd, he has gotten enough information - William was attacked, discovered in the street, Safer came to help. Strange that Safer was here in the first place, but it wasn't the first time Alan had spotted the scout so close to the castle. Regardless, William looked bad. Really bad. Face beaten-up, eyes and mouth damaged, open gash seemingly from the top of the head. Jacket destroyed, cuts and open wounds everywhere. Clearly attacked, likely by multiple people. Alan's eyes rose, following the small trail of blood leading to the wounded man. As expected, it ran into the alley, too far for Alan to see from his current position.
Alan turned his attention back to Mitsuo. The blood trail can wait - blood is awfully hard to clean out, even in the corrupt streets of Mitras.

"Stay with me, okay? You're going to be alright. You're going to be alright..." the Military Police captain spoke, half to himself and half to Will. He wanted to move him to a different location, but didn't know what injuries Will had sustained. Best to leave him here for now.
Alan looked into Will's sunken, horrid eyes. They were looking back. At least he was conscious. That, in turn, also meant he was breathing. Good. Job would be easier.
Alan removed his Military coat, unbuttoned his white shirt and began tearing it. An awful thing to do to such a nice shirt, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
Slowly but skillfully, Alan began creating and applying bandages to the fallen man. They were not perfect, not by a long-shot, but they should keep the bleeding at bay, for now.
Alan looked down at William, bare-chested and hair messier. The young captain analyzed his handiwork, and made sure there were no more deep cuts he missed. He sat back, breathing heavily, eyes wide open.
He was feeling awfully cold. He put his Military coat back on.

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Alan Katlewande

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Re: won't someone spread the ocean over my head? [open]

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