An Arrow To The...

<September 28, 2014>: Keith took an arrow to the shoulder during The Wild Hunt. Gar isn't amused.

Keith and Miguel's Apartment



  • None

Mood Music:
Regina Spektor - The Party

That took far longer than was accounted for in Keith's patience reserves. Nevertheless, painkillers did do their fair share of work towards diminishing the young man's edge. He had changed at the hospital, so that the ER people wouldn't have to deal with fur around the wound. As he gives Gar the keys to the apartment he looks at his bandaged left shoulder, shaking his head. "An arrow. Of all things. Why'd you go all berzerk like that, though? That was… impressive." He's a little out of it, understandably, because of the painkillers, but he's still pretty lucid.

"You got shot, what was I supposed to do, pat them on the head and give them all a cookie?" Gar says a bit snappishly. Of course, being that creature was pretty much like being made of pure meanness and contraritude, and it's still a bit echoey in his head.

The green guy opens the door to the apartment, tapping lightly first in case Bunker's there and unclothed, so he'll have a chance to materialize a lego toga or something.

The apartment is empty, for now at least. There's signs that Miguel's been here— but his backpack is gone. Late night shift again.

"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that," Keith apologizes a little groggily. "Thanks for saving me," he says, and puts an arm- the one he can use- around Garfield. "I shouldn't have been that careless. I'll do better." Because yes, although there was something about seeing Gar come to his rescue like that, it also meant that Keith had also done something to scare or worry him. And that could be fatal in battle, should he ever distract Gar at a crucial moment with something like that.

"It's been… one hell of a day. You know, between the time that you left and before you came back to sleep here, I ran into Spoiler and Midnighter? And…" he pauses, "Um. She sort of unmasked herself to me. Us."

"No, it's not that you were careless. Stuff happens. We need to get you some protection in your costume, is all," Gar says reasonably. "I mean, you keep getting hurt!"

He helps Keith to settle on the futon, and fusses around in the kitchen for a few minutes, returning with cold chinese food from the refrigerator, that he'd put away earlier.

"You were talking about Spoiler exposing herself?"

"You never got this injured when you were a rookie?" Keith asks. He's figured that it's part of the job, until you learn NOT to get injured all over the place anymore. That's when you stop being a rookie.

Or at least that's what he thinks. He smiles at Gar. "You're a prince, you know that?" he says, sitting on the futon and lazily beginning to undo his shoelaces, klicking off his shoes one by one.

"Spoilwer… yeah… she was furious. And she told us who she really was… and then she wanted to kill someone who-" he's not allowed to tell Gar about Cluemaster. Or at least, he doesn't think he is. He'll have to ask Spoiler if the secret clause extends to Gar, "-killed her father and destroyed her family." It was figuratively true, in the same way that Darth Vader killed Anakin. Sort of. "The Cluemaster, you know, the villain? Midnighter was all about killing him, too. I went along because… well, she was injured, and she wanted me to get her mother out of the way before she dealt with the Cluemaster. So we're there at the place, and Midnighter goes to scout first… so I take the chance to just talk to her and try to talk her out of the killing bit."

He's being chatty. The meds are making him chatty. Or maybe he's just tired and punch happy. The young man begins to take off his shirt, slowly and gingerly. He has other injuries from the sword blows that he received- bandages criscrossing his chest and back, but all of them flesh wounds, as he was mercifully fast enough to avoid a fatal blow. Or maybe it had been plain old luck. He was supposed to take it easy tomorrow. And several days after as well.

Flesh Wound: (n) An injury to the skin or muscles, rather than to a bone, ligament, or internal organ. Alleged to be less dangerous or quicker to heal than other kinds of wound. See infection and scarring, cross-reference gangrene.

Gar gives a hiss at the sight of all the bandages.

"OK. You are WAY too casual about your hide. I like it without all the scars. Stop adding to them," Gar says, glaring so that the Cait Sidhe can take heed inside there.

"You talked her out of killing her … Cluemaster? Hm. If this were television and movie tropes, he'd be her father. Probably secretly, or there'd be some additional drama," Gar says blandly. "Be very careful with Midnighter. I get the feeling he's easily aimed and dispatched, and then you have indirect blood on your hands, and that stuff is really hard to get out in the wash."

Keith looks chastened at the glare, "I'll do better. I just need a little more training, is all." He reaches over to squeeze Gar's hand, feeling a pang of guilt. "Alright, I'll get it armored… can you help me with that? I've never really… you know."

And Spoiler, a welcome topic change. "Well… she followed my advice and didn't kill him. Even though Midnighter was clearly against that… I dropped her mother off at a rehab center and by the time I came back, Cluemaster was apprehended." He gives Gar a bit of a hopeful smile. "See? I'm not a total screw-up. One thing I did today turned out for the better."

"That's pretty good. So the drop off at a rehab center is why you smell like someone horked on you?" Gar asks. "And Cluemaster… sounds like a real Gotham Winner, huh? Because everyone should deliberately leave REAL clues to what they're doing."

"Well… no. She actually horked on me." Keith hehs, and then a certain sadness comes to him. "Poor woman. Cluemaster had her entirely under his thumb, and she's a total addict. She… I don't know." He looks absent for a second, looking inward. "She was this broken human being, and I wished I could do something to make her not broken, you know? She's someone's mother."

Eyes a little moist. Of course, he was his mother's boy, after all. "I don't know if she'll be different now that Cluemaster is packed away and she's in rehab. I'd like to think so, but…" he looks up at Gar.

"Yeah. I know, it's not that easy. I hope she comes out OK too," Gar says. He thinks about his adoptive dad, and the strange thing with the Mento helmet that messed up his thinking in such spectacular ways. Genius, but with no consideration about what his plans did to other people. A different kind of broken, perhaps.

Keith stays quiet for a bit and then reaches for Gar's hand, holding it in his own and then kissing it. "Hey, sorry for scaring you. I meant it, I'm going to do better." He tugs at Gar gently, to encourage him to sit next to him on the futon.

"You need to remember to use your martial arts tricks. You're a CAT. You should be more aware of what's going on around you," Gar half-scolds. But then he's already sorta kinda learned to do that himself, which is probably why he turned into a badger-mole to attack the archers. He stretches out next to Keith on the futon.

"Do you need anything else to drink? Fizzy water?"

"Can you teach me?" Keith asks, and moves himself so he's on top of Gar, propped up on his good arm. "I want to be as strong and as reliable as you. If we're going to be on the field together, you can't get distracted if I end up getting injured like that again." He says, touching his nose to Gar's. "I need to be someone you can rely upon instead of someone you have to protect."

"Lesson one: You are always going to be protecting your teammates, and they will always rely on you. If you have a good team."

No, Gar isn't turning into Yoda to say that, because it would be silly and besides muppets aren't a real species as far as the Red is concerned. Although it may have been giving serious consideration to it.

"Really, it's a matter of paying attention. You already know how to do that, but you're letting it lapse in order to do fancy things. What that means is you need to practice more."

Keith nods, listening. "I guess I get a little carried away…" chaotic nature. Reckless. He's going to have to work hard to keep that under manageable reins. "I'm surprised I've survived as long as I have so far."

Keith's other hand, not bearing the weight of his body, touches Gar's chest, and begins to caress it . "I'm a rookie, and it sucks being a rookie, doesn't it?"

"As I recall it was a kind of a pain, but honestly, it got better. And it didn't take that long. But we did have to practice tactics and stuff," Gar says.

"It's kinda weird though, being one of the more experienced guys in team stuff."

"With all of us being the newbies, yeah. I mean, we're the same age… when's your birthday?" Keith smiles and gets a certain look on his face. His hand slips under Gar's shirt, feeling slowly up to his chest. "Because if you're younger than me by a few months, I'll feel embarrassed."

"February 13th," Gar says. "At least according to my passport. My fan club thinks it's the 23 of March."

He tenses a little as that wandering hand moves upwards. "If this is what pain meds do then you can keep getting hurt," he jokes.

"Okay, so you're older, I'm the 30th of October. And I am all too aware of how funny that is." It was good to know the date, he thought it was the other one along with everyone else. Keith grins, his hand reaching his chest, and giving it gentle squeezes. "Oh… it's not the meds. I just wanted to make it up to you…" the redhead winks and slides down a little, to place a kiss on Gar's exposed stomach, his hand having moved his shirt up.

"You do know I'm not ticklish, right?" Gar lies, "and that I'm totally not going to fold up giggling any second now, right?"

He reaches down and ruffles Keith's hair. "So you just keep on doing that and you're in no danger at all."

Keith grins. "Oh, really now?" He pulls Gar's shirt up further, and with a mischievous look on his face, he starts licking lightly, moving up slowly. There's got to be a ticklish spot somewhere

"You do know that if you find the ticklish spot that doesn't exist, I'm not in control of whatever I turn into," Gar says. "Could be anything. Porcupine. Ostrich. Octopus."

Keith laughs and looks up at Garfield. "Or sexy shirtless green guy?" he teases, aiming to pull that shirt right over his head. "That sounds like a good bet."

Stolen Shirt, Achievement Unlocked. Gar is momentarily tied up with the shirt. Keef has discovered the thing that none of Gar's enemies in combat have discovered - you can totally capture him by pulling his shirt over his arms.

The redhead gets a rather amused grin. "Aha, you're in my power at last!" he says, affecting a corny cartoon villain voice. It's not that good, but he winks and licks up Garfield's torso, mischief glinting in his eyes. The hairyness does not bother him at all- rather, he finds it rather attractive in him.

"No, I'll never get the cat curls out!" Gar protests through the shirt. "At least I will have my revenge, you will have hairy tongue!"

Not that Vorpal is unfamiliar with the aftermath of grooming.

Keith laughs, "It's totally worth it!" the redhead says. And then stops at Gar's chest. Should he or should he not?

Oh, what the hell. He licks. "There's nothing wrong with my tongue!"

"ACK!" That's done it. Gar's shapeshifted to a Green Sea Turtle. And he's on his back.

"This isn't better," he complains.

Keith looks at the sea turtle… and then begins to laugh his ass off. "Oh my god… Garfield!" he says, hiding his face in his hands so as not to laugh too hard.

"I told you I couldn't control it," Gar complains. He flaps his flippers helplessly. Oh, this is not a good place to be for a sea turtle, not at all.

"Oh gosh… can you change back?" Keith says, suddenly looking worried. He reaches over to try and help him right himself up. "What should I do? Do I need to take you somewhere?"

"Change back?" Gar reverts to his human form. "Why didn't I think of that? Hey, that's much better."

He grabs Keef around the waist, "you saved me from the horrible stuck on my back-ness!"

Perhaps someone is being more than a little weird. It may have to do with being temporarily made to yell at an Erlking.

Keith smirks, "Don't you dare scare me like that, Garfield Logan," he admonishes, but reciprocates in his embrace. "… okay, since I saved you, I want to claim my reward kiss and then go to sleep 'cause I'm effing tired after participating in some crazy mini-Edda or whatever…" he leans over to Gar,and adds "Also… tonight, can you hold me facing the wall? I need to sleep on my good shoulder and I'm afraid I'll roll over onto the wounded one…" He touches his nose to Gar, and smiles.

"You got it," Gar says. He becomes a tiger so that he can lie on his side, with one paw under Keith's head and the other around his waist holding him close, so he won't roll around. That should hold for a few hours anyway.

Tomorrow, maybe a chance to rest. The next day, more work. Maybe something will come up so they can start training the team together at last.

Back to: RP Logs

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 License