chainsmoke
it was a long week. forget that it was only wednesday. the days seemed to blur together and not move at all. most likely an effect of the sleepless nights and rather demanding work. maybe that is why his landing was less than elegant. he'd honestly forgotten that someone else hung around the rooftops now. Seemingly out of nowhere, he basically fell onto the very edge of the building-top. only able to give a frustrated sigh as he stayed laid down like that for a good long moment. not even bothered to move despite how badly he wanted to get changed and get a cold shower. his mask and coat was caked in dust, blood and who knows what else. whatever he got thrown into by the mobsters. it downed on him that he should be more careful. it was hard to explain away the bruises on your face when working for the journalist branch. luckily he was well known for being clumsy, so there was hope to get away with it.
only now did he catch movement. he wasn't alone, but he didn't try to sit up now. not even to try and look.
chainsmoke
as if he wasn't laying still before, he completely froze at the sound of his name. teying to half convince himself that he didn't hear correctly or he made some sort of mistake, even though he knew he definitely heard it right. but how? he always made sure to wear different more grey coat and lighter clothes over all compared to his all black outfit now. he instinctively felt for his mask, nit torn and not showing anything. so how? how did she know? part of him wanted to not respond. pretend he didn't hear. but, curiosity was a dangerous thing that he often underestimates.
was he okay? he had this stinging sensation just under the left rib. he wasn't sure if it was a bruis, a stab or a gunshot. adrenaline was still working overtime to get him home. to get to bed. hopefully to the first aid box on the way there too. " who now ..? " he half tried to laugh, immediately regretting it as the pain only seemed to dig deeper at that. normally he was an excellent fibber, but for some reason he just lost that talent when he wanted it most know.
moonblnkd
@chainsmoke ⟢﹒ what constituted as tranquility to one.. could not be identified similarly by another. almost boredom, really, thoughts sifting through an endless filter while absently observing the cityscape below. a routine she’d fallen into yet again because of her reluctance to travel elsewhere. why? well— a plume of dust not too far away snaps her back to the present, the sound muffled but hard enough to be felt underfoot. far too big for a pigeon, or any animal for that matter.. someone else, perhaps? not many ventured this high as she’d come to realize. though there was one in particular. upon closer inspection a tinge of worry flutters, the unmistakable scent of blood thick and pungent. who else but— “peter?” the moons looms over his deflated form. “are you alright?”
