20150208-Winter is here

February 08, 2015: Lunair is tired of HYDRA. So it's time to bother them a little back! But she finds a few unexpected enemies and allies. Also, there's gangsters and stuff.

East End - Gotham

A place to work out and fight! Just another ordinary establishment in Gotham, right? Everyone totally wants to be in shape in Gotham because it helps you run away from the stabbings.



  • Hydra Goons
  • Random Gangsters

Mood Music:

Well. Lunair knows their location. It's good to have super smart, computery friends it is. And she's been getting tired of being the one being chased around. Really. Although, she also has stuff to pick up, things to do and people to visit. Maybe if she just - y'know, kinda… takes a little trip with a few guns…

But this is Gotham. They greet one another with shivvings, and fighting outright isn't entirely unusual. There's even places to bet on pit fights, if one wishes to look in the right side of town. The night is a bit calmer in a way, but then - other sorts come out when the cops become fewer, and there are fewer witnesses and collateral damages to worry about. Her Vespa is parked nearby, not having bothered to replace her car. Even the pigeons carry little switchblades and tiny pistols, she's pretty sure. "Who in the heck messed with all the pipes to create dramatic fog…? This place is so weird." Lunair shakes her head. Nevertheless, she makes her way to what looks like a gym set up for all sorts of punchsports. "Here." She looks up at it. The lights are on. How odd. Who works out at night? Well, HYDRA, probably. Never hurts to make a few dollars off of fights and people who want to get buff (sorry, Hans and Frans). As she watches, a shot rings out from above. "Whoa, hey!" Time to push open the door. There's a figure in the window above.

Nights like these, the costumed vigilante calling himself Ripper seriously contemplates Gotham putting in rooftop walkways so his kind can prowl around easier. Without super strength, Olympic level agility, epic level parkour, or grappling hooks it kind of limited the places that a young man like David Ironheart can go. His musings on the feasability of such a project are interrupted by a nearby gunshot.

Moving to take a closer look, Ripper catches sight of a familiar armored figure entering the adjacent building. Did she fire first? No, probably not. A couple of the most likely scenarios run through his mind, and in the majority of them he figures it would be better to follow her than to ignore this. After making his way down to the street the masked man hurries after her, going for the same door.

There's a flash of bright amber wings as the shot rings out and the sound of shattering glass as someone with a silenced weaon returns fire. "Lunair, this is Aspect. Snake hunting are we?" He's not visible yet but he may be on one of the nearby rooftops. He tends to be sneaky like that.

Armory slash Lunair finds Ripper interesting and weirdly adorable in her own, quietly insane way. She also sympathizes with the rooftop business. It isn't easy and she doesn't intend on doing 10k crunches a day or whatever. Besides, she has her own problems now. Lunair looks over her shoulder, as David/The Ripper comes on in. "Oh!" She was about to - draw a weapon. There's relief. Then there's the flash of bright wings and shattering glass.

There's a reply. "Hi! And a little. I also got some errands done." But she's odd that way. "I think they're working out slash betting on fights," She offers. And now, a rifle comes out. By now, there's a few goons emerging - armed with hand to hand weapons, and a couple with guns. "Oh. There they are. There's a few in here," To Ripper and Aspect. She's moving for cover, since her melee talent is kind of low and also Lunair is bad at narrating and fighting. It never works out, not really. Unless you're Blade. But he can do anything. There's likely a couple of other figures in the window, now looking for the source of those shots and that light.

Some light from behind, silenced gunfire, and not so silent verbal exchanges? Weird stuff, and there's parts he'd love to investigate, but right now there is gunfire and unlike Armory he is not bulletproof. So he just joins the conversation casually, "Hi yourself!" - to Lunair, followed by "Hey fire support, did I get any paint on my butt from that wall I leaned against?" - to the mysterious voice Lunair is talking to. And incidently, no, he did not get paint on him.

"So is this business, pleasure, or fishing?" he resumes chatting in a very chipper manner to the armored young woman, drawing his sword and making a beeline towards the guards who don't seem to have guns. And then, right before they get in stabbing range, he draws throwing knives from his costume and throws them at the guards' faces. Because he's a jerk and a cheater.

The wings were over there. Now they're gone. This is bacause Aspect dropped down to street level. There's a burst of sileced weapons fire again and the hacker moves for cover up the street from Lunair, targeting the upper windows. "Looks like you've got company, yeah. I'll move in up the side. This looks like it might be a kitty staff job… or a railgun one… your call."

A sound almost silent at first slowly begins to raise as something comes flying closer, a streak of silver in the sky. It sounds almost human an outburst of suprise as a mostly metal man comes crashing down towards the earth "-ooooooooooooooooooyaaaaaah!" his scream ending just as he slams into the ground sending out a small shockwave and cratering into the ground. The blue light of his jump boots fading away as the confused dark skinned and chromed teen comes back to a stand patting himself down as if to check if he's still alive. Right in the middle of the firefight.

Even before shots being being exchanged, a number of the goons aren't looking too hot: there are cuts, bruises, and even a couple of electrical burns.

When HYDRA trains, it trains for keeps— or, at least, the Winter Soldier does.

Before the less controlled demonstrations of violence, he mostly maintained a position at the head of his class of agents, where he barked instructions, demonstrated important techniques, and most of all, watched— and judged, if mostly silently; as soon as the shots rang out, however, he turned and ran towards the locker area.

Cut one down, and another one flees the space, apparently.

To be fair, everyone needs to train. Even Superman probably has to learn to *aim*. If her face were visible, armory would give him a sidelong look. "Paint? Why would I be looking at your butt - I mean, that's just sexist. Isn't it? I forget." She'll have to look it up later. Nevertheless, she seems quieter than usual. "Business. It's a bit personal." She has a thousand enemies, and it's time to deal with them. Even if it's slaughtering a few at a time.

She replies to Aspect, "It seems so." She politely omits the backside chat. "And no, no paint," She offers to Ripper. Back to Aspect. "I suspect railgun." She's tired of them. "You'll want to search it short— um. Hey?" There's a few souls who have decided to barrel in amidst the chaos.

Lunair blinks, jerking and startled as a - man - lands with a yell. There's the sounds of a door smashing and glass, as a few more people rush in, wearing well - gang clothing - and one stops to tie his shoes, before holding up an uzi. Lunair herself doesn't seem aware of the Winter Soldier as the gang members barrel in.

"Hey, man, you sure this is the right place?" They look to one another, then shrug. More shooting joins in. A few Hydra saps get knives chucked into their faces, and scream. One comes at David with a claymore. And a few others shoot back. A lady with a whip grabs an uzi from one of the gangsters. "Safe word, lady, safe word!" And he's … being chased. It's deadly, and there's gallows humor and chaos amongst all of it. Lunair is fighting, but her and her rail gun are by the wayside for this one.

There's more gunfire from up the street. Gangers, it looks like. And they don't seem to be any happier with the HYDRA presence than Lunair or David. They're not to keen on the other strangers either, but first things first.

Jericho himself emerges from an alley, all glowing blue seven foot tall demonwolf with a five foot blade in his hand. That he uses, yes in one hand. That draws a few odd shots from the Alley Cats up the street. Catwoman's people. Though the moment Aspect lays into the next nearest Hydra soldier it becomes clear which side he's on.

Ripper really doesn't get why Armory thinks /he's/ the weird one. From his point of view, Lunair is the weird one - not to mention she seems to be a weirdness magnet. His life isn't like this normally; but with Lunair around? People keep randomly appearing, either by what he can only assume is teleportation or falling out of the sky itself. For Gotham though, random gangbangers are pretty much par for the course, albeit it not THOSE particular ones. "Are you friends with that werewolf?" the man in the medical jacket and white mask queries the short sociopath. Because David has no idea if that's the sniper she was talking with (unlikely) or some other person randomly attracted by whatever chaos magic it is that Lunair has.

Also people are trying to stab him. Well, just one person now, but one person with a claymore can do a lot of stabbing. Or slashing, more accurately. "Before you die is there anything you'd care to share?" Ripper asks the Hydra swordman, parrying the first blow and following it up with a slash across the upper arm and hopefully throat, which would likely render the question rhetorical in nature.

As a global terror organization, HYDRA has an obvious interest in maintaining legitimate real estate holdings. Some locales are better equipped than others to quash such goals, or at least make it more difficult to capitalize on them effectively; it's tricky to negotiate the movement of agents and contraband between safe houses when there are itchy-fingered SaRDines with surveillance drones or Kryptonians in the mix. Here, at least, keeping the authorities at bay is relatively simple: all it takes are deep pockets. Like the kind possessed by, say, a global terror organization.

The Winter Soldier barrels into the men's locker room and doesn't stop until he's nearly on the other side of it, and once he's there, he starts fiddling with a combination lock hanging off of an extra-wide locker. Working the knob with his left hand makes things quick, but he has enough time to tick through the threats he spotted breaching the gym as he does it; there are a lot of numbers to run through. At least three hostiles, one of them a robot. Or— a robot-man; problematic either way.

Once the lock comes undone, he pulls it free and gingerly opens the door to reveal firearms racked on the far wall and inner door, along with shelves of ammo and small explosives; it is at least a little bit bigger on the inside than it is on the outside, thanks to some experimental space-folding technology that probably didn't come standard with the property.

Tapping his ear as he briskly browses through his options, he transmits to the goons who are conscious and wearing their standard-issue comm devices, "Heads of HYDRA: use what you've learned— send these non-believers to their graves. Do not disappoint me."

Some time after the gangbangers crash the gym, a sharp, but easily drowned out *FOOMPF!* sounds as the Winter Soldier emerges into what appears to be a fairly lop-sided slaughter.

Of course.

His soft sigh is overtaken by the reverberent *BOOOOOM!* of his launched grenade after it lands between two gangsters and a HYDRA agent.

"We are not accepting new members tonight!" he shouts, swinging the sizable rifle tucked in against his left arm towards Lunair before squeezing the trigger again.


It seems like the robot type man doesn't have more then a few seconds to bask in just how awesome he is. "Man that was so-" His voice cut off by the hail of gunfire, his hands moving up to cover his face out of habit. In the process his sonic cannon fires off sending one of the goons flying off through a wall into a pair of gangsters which had been firing at him.

"Good, because I didn't plan on joining a cult tonight!" Cyborg calling out in a somewhat taunting voice trying not to sound too completely confused at what he just bounced in on, though the shot of blue energy from his arm proves to be more then a bit shocking not just for him but the goon in question. With all the chaos Victor hasn't really even gotten the chance to get a good look at what he's shooting but in spite of that he's really helping to thin the herd, even as his favorite hoodie is shredded revealing more of that bright chrome, and the parts of him that are still human.

The poor gangster is being chased around by the woman with a whip, screaming various words at her. She gives him a 'seriously?' look. At least a few of the HYDRA sorts are holding their own, cutting down a few of the gangsters. She steals the man's uzi with her whip and it's really on. It's not entirely lopsided. Battle ebbs and flows. A few go after the robot man, at least until he's driven off or something. Or they get smashed.

Lunair really doesn't get Ripper. He's so adorably weird and angry. It's like one of those odd dogs you just don't get, but goshdarnit, he's adorable for doing his own thing. Though, a lady with many arms once said she was touched by the Wild ways. And that's probably true of Lunair. Chaos does seem to be her thing. She nods, "Yeah, he's a nice guy. Doesn't even shed." Hey, werewolf problems, man.

A couple of others, one ganger with a chain, and another melee weapon wielding HYDRA go for Ripper.

Quite a few souls are consumed in the blast of a railgun. It's quite ugly. "Really? Too bad. I could probably work out more." Huff. Poor Victor has more gangers than HYDRA after him at the moment. "Wait, oh - Duck, Ripper! Grenades!" Lunair is usually pretty fond of grenades. They're great for clearing a room fast. Not so much when you're not on the receiving end. Though, it's a bit of a relief. These ones don't seem to be aware of the wanted alive thing. Yet. For now. Her armor will catch the worst of it, but she's going to get some serious concussive and shard damage despite her moving back and away.

The fight has spilled out, too, with a few of the combatants bolting outside as grenades come - taking them towards Jericho. Hey, is that glowing? Go for it!

"Destroy these unbelievers? Really?" Jericho ducks and winces inside his powerfield as the grenades go off and then there are HYDRA spilling out the door and deciding that he's a target of opportunity. No few Alley Cats are… actually Jericho's not really clear who they're shooting at. He does, however, know what to do with Hydra…

Digital claws are rather impossibly sharp and his soulbound blade is designed to be swung and deal with the impacts that he can generate. Neither of these facts bode well for the Hydra goons and soon Lunair has a bit of competition in the 'messy' department.

Even for footwear designed with combat or war in mind, there is a spot a little behind the base of the toes that offers very little protection, owing to the need for flexibility there. So while David's throwing knives normally are useless against anything as durable as treated leather, when he's close enough to somebody it's pretty easy to throw a blade or two straight down into the tendons for their toes. Before Lunair is even calling out the warning, Ripper notices the man with the grenade launcher and is stabbing into the feet of both of his opponents with a few more knives. "I appreciate your sacrifice," he informs the HYDRA agent as he then ducks down and presses against his chest - using him as a shield for the shrapnel when the grenade goes off.

Concussion waves are harder to ignore, and the young man lifts up his mask just enough to reveal the rather ordinary looking chin and lips behind it - which promptly spit a wad of blood into the face of the ganger. "Go play with somebody else. I'm busy." The mask is lowered as he says this. And then?

"I am Inigo Montoya! You killed my father!" This is shouted out by Ripper to the Winter Soldier in a great bellow with heaps of melodrama. However, instead of finishing the quote, he just charges the man with the grenade launcher, armed with a simple steel blade.

"You're making me do this." Cyborg calls out as he's swarmed in mobsters a practical wall of them attacking as grenades go off people scream and in general he just wants his ears to ring. "If you want to stop I'll let you off with a warning." Being added on as he realizes he doesn't quite know how to do what he just did on command. Each of his hands managing to send out blasts of sonic energy at once sending him flying right back over the winter soldiers shoulder, as he tries to get a hang of it.

Batman comes into East End from IC Nexus.

Batman heads out to Bristol.

"Hm," the Winter Soldier grunts, double-timing it towards Lunair as wisps of smoke from the grenade launcher trail behind him. His ears are ringing something fierce between the explosions and Victor's sonics, but he can still make out the important stuff: screaming, gunfire, walls coming down.

The wet *SPLUTCH!* of one of HYDRA's many heads sailing into the gym after an unfortunate date with Aspect and smacking into the ground.

Are there more invaders?

"Well— plenty of time for that later, I think," he decides before He squeezing off a double-tap from the 'assault' portion of his rifle, aiming at Armory's armored torso with the goal of keeping her out of the fight while Ripper, the robot man, and who or whatever is outside are dealt with.

Maybe he does know.

Hit or miss, he doesn't get a chance to fire off any more suppressive rounds because some guy whose father he apparently killed is yelling at him. He turns to meet the newcomer, rifle snapping up to draw a bead on his sword arm in an instant; before the trigger can be pulled, however, another burst of sonics catches his ear and draws his attention towards the source.

Which appears to be flying at him.

After he drops the rifle, his Soviet-engineered arm snaps towards one of the incoming Cyborg's wrists and clamps down with inhuman strength. Being flesh and bone, the majority of his body is ill-suited to doing much to control such a heavy object moving at high speeds: he can't pull Victor out of his flight, but as he shifts into a wide stance, bridges back, and pivots his hips just so, he does manage to guide the young man in a more strategic direction:

Towards Ripper.

"I've killed a lot of people's fathers," he admits after his show of cyberjudo without a shred of care.

To be entirely fair, a few pricey sorts have been hired to try to grab the silly mutant. W-why is he running at her? Lunair is stinging and in pain. She had to warn and yet - she's moving a bit backwards. Between being a little hurt and suppressive fire, Lunair is going to do her best to pick off anyone who gets too close. She's not really a variable in the fight now. The fire at her armored chest /smarts/, too. Even if it isn't actually doing a whole lot of direct injury. Just. Owchie/

"Ripper-!" She notices he's injured. She's worried, and he's quoting Princess Pride. The gangsters are in the thick of it, though some are backing away and fleeing outside. Probably into the embrace or weapons of rivals outside. And then there's a Cyborg guy who seems to be taking the Latin way and being nudged at Ripper. The numbers of active combatants are likely thinning a bit, but one thing people forget about HYDRA is they are tenacious and pretty clever. You don't get to be a global organization and survive by being loud and dumb, after all. And they are quite willing to suicide if needed. But there's no honor or wisdom in being caught or dying needlessly. They'll probably try to finish this fight or go find somewhere else to be. A few will keep attacking the group, at least.

The noise outside lessens and there's a rather abrupt… interior redesign of the walls as Aspect slams to the inside of the building, dodging fire from the Alley Cats outside. Yes, he's bullet proof. But he doesn't like being shot all that much if it can be helped. The sudden spectacle that greets him is ra- wait that guy's shooting at Lunair. The hacker snaps his blade back to gun mode and begins to return fire, trying to take some heat of Armory.

While it's true that Ripper's own sword was mostly useless against Lunair's advanced armor, assault rifles are designed with penetration in mind - by now, David was quite worried about her. Admittedly he was probably going to die first, but /both/ of them dying would really tick him off; his seemingly random statement had in fact been deliberate in the hopes of triggering a moment of recognition and confusion at the quote - but alas, The Winter Soldier was on ice when the movie came out. Though for better and for worse, an airborn machine-man interrupts Ripper's probable death. His charge is completely disrupted from Victor. Leaning back even as he continues forward, he drops to his knees and does a very impressive sliding limbo move that nevertheless fails to clear him from the cyborg's trajectory. Clipped in the shoulder, he goes spinning off to the side, rolling several times before coming to a halt, lying prone on the floor, the unblinking mask turned in the Hydra commando's general direction.

The Winter Soldier twists out of his bridge when Aspect takes a wall down and squeezes off a few rounds in the hopes of keeping he and his sword the hell away from his person.

When this turns out to be pointless, he reaches to switch barrels and Aspect switches weapons - and killing ranges - entirely. Because a glowing wolf-man with a massive sword wasn't bad enough without the addition of another gun.

"Hnngh!" The Soldier's uniform is armored, but as Lunair learned, taking multiple rounds to the chest is bad news especially these rounds. The burst sends him flying several feet backwards, and while he manages to roll through the landing, he doesn't rise past a crouch afterwards. Heeping low, he darts towards the nearest body he can find for cover, the hot knives stabbing at his chest keeping him from moving as quickly as he'd like.

He has no idea what kind of weapon Aspect's using, or how many shots it has left. Ripper might be down for the moment, but the (other, more converted) cyborg seems to be using foot-mounted jets to take control of his flight.

And Lunair's got a railgun and anything else she can imagine at her disposal.

Tonight was supposed to be for training; as nice as it would have been to bring Armory back to where she belongs, he's clearly going to need an actual plan, rather than trying to make the most of an impromptu fire fight.

"This is over!" he declares, shoving his cover back to the ground. "Those of you who can, go!" As much as it hurts, he forces himself to jog towards the locker area again, angling towards the women's side this time. Several of the tiles in the wall are loose, leading to tunnels; all he has to do is get to them.

"Those of you who can't: give your lives for HYDRA!"

To be fair, it is pretty damn bulletproof. But even the best armor has problems with concussive forces. It's just a fact of physics and life. She won't die, but she'll be bruised (again) and annoyed. Plus, she's got a usual person body. Pain slows and hurts. She is worried about David in turn. She is also unaware that Winter - the mysterious arm guy (that's totally her name for him now) - knows what it is she can do. "…" Is he running towards the women's room? There's a brief moment to resist giggling.

But now that she's not being shot at, the railgun is going to claim a few more souls who didn't quite make it. She has no interest in riling the mysterious man. She's sore, her armor badly damaged (granted, she can just dismiss it and make more or repair hers with a /thought/, but how fast is a thought against bullet fire…?) and her friend(s) hurt.

The gangsters have cleared out, likely a few stopping to snag firearms or dropped weapons as they go and those HYDRA who can will follow Winter or GTFO. Those who cannot, well. "You guys-" Lunair sounds worried, and she moves for David. "Oh geez." He's badly hurt.

Remain down, left for incapacitated, and wait for things to turn in his favor? Or get up and do something stupid and/or reckless?

As soon as the HYDRA cyborg drops the corpse and makes for an escape, David goes for the latter option. He's up and onto his feet, sprinting after the person who is definitely out of Ripper's metaphorical weight class. To say he's favoring one shoulder would be an understatement - his left hand doesn't seem to be able to make a fist - but in spite of Lunair's assessment he's quite spry. In fact, he sheaths his sword as he runs because he decides that the only better thing than chasing a man with a grenade launcher and assault rifle is to throw a couple more knives - no he is is not going to run out any time soon - at the back of the Winter Soldier's legs during the footchase, provided he can get a clear shot as they navigate through the locker room.

As the Winter Soldier withdraws Jericho moves to take a position of cover, more or less and fires to continue to encourage Hydra to leave. Not quite a snake hole he'd planned on busting but he'll poke around it for usable intel. If any. There may no be. "You two okay?" The large, seven and a half foot tall glowing demonwolf made of blue light says. Yeah. That's tooootaly normal for Gotham.

The knives hit the Winter Soldier in both thighs, buckling his knees; the blades don't penetrate his uniform quite as deeply as they might have a more conventional garment, but they're in there far enough to make fleeing even less comfortable than the bruised (or cracked; he isn't quite sure, yet, and he could believe either) ribs already are. He manages to forces himself up to his feet smoothly enough, given the circumstances, but past that point… he's dragging himself towards the tunnel-bearing wall more than he's running, or even walking.

Luckily for him, he's part of a global terror organization, the vast majority of whose members are basically nuts.

"HAIL HYDRA!" one of the agents who was running after the Soldier exclaims as he turns and hurls himself at Ripper, brandishing a scavenged pipe. "I won't let you down again, <Russian word for teacher that Bucky's player doesn't want to waste more time looking up a usable English translation for>!"

In a way, it's kind of sweet; in another way, it's intensely stupid, because Ripper has a sword and way too many knives. If he's lucky, he'll be able to buy the Soldier and the other couple of fleeing agents a little extra time.

Those agents make it to the wall the assassin is headed for several steps ahead of him and hastily begin rapping on bricks in a particular pattern. After a couple of knocks, they linger to give the Soldier time to catch up to them, and once he does, the agent who's got her fist up taps one more brick. Previously hidden seams split a section of the wall off from the rest, and that section slides to the side to reveal a short hallway leading to a descending stairway lit by a string of construction lights.

It'll seal itself shut behind the fleeing agents, but the scent will linger at some time; it's not exactly a clean getaway, at least tonight.

Lunair is helping mop up a few of the agents, likely to make sure none of the ones behind that aren't already jumping him join the tussle. He looks sort of happy to be stabbing. "I'm bruised as heck, but yeah. I'm worried about Ripper. I'll pay for his medical treatment and dinner or something." Hey, she's pretty murderous but she's not /mean/ about it at least. No one likes a jerk.

For now, then, she's mopping up and making her way to Stabby McStabbington over there. The gangsters have fled, after cleaning up what they could. "I didn't think this was going to get quite so weird. I was just going to drop in some explosives and-" Well. A Cyborg guy fell in and - "I think I'm cursed or something." Nevertheless, the fight is done and even as rough as Gotham is, the sounds of the fighting means law enforcement is likely summoned. "I don't think the cops here are super fast, but if you're gonna poke around - I suspect we'd better be fast." Also, bruises. So many bruises. She wants a bubble bath about now.

Having managed to slow down his prey - well, no, the man was still a tiger, Ripper just planned on catching him by the tail - things are starting to look like the psychotic young man might actually meet up with the former US commando. Instead he gets a crazed goon; under any other circumstances, that would pretty be his birthday, because NOBODY cares what happens to people like that. Right now though, he's only got one working arm, so he has to stop harassing the Winter Soldier with thrown weapons in favor of drawing his weapon to teach the HYDRA agent that you don't bring a pipe to a swordfight. It's a pretty quick lesson, albeit it painful and fatal. Yet his real target escapes thanks to that delay. He squashes down what is literally a killing rage, one born of equal parts hate and insanity, physically calming himself by the time Lunair has said more than a couple words to him.

Turning around, the red smile painted haphazardly across the mask suits his almost always too-chipper voice. "Yeah, you have a very weird life," he admits with a nod. "Don't know how good at investigating I am, but I can lend a hand if you want." If he thinks she needs some help, rather.

To be fair, Lunair had really planned on rolling in, mowing the place down and moving along. But the chaos that surrounds her always seems to catch up to. At least she gets to see her friends. The one-metal-armed guy is perturbing, and curious, but there's no time to think about it. She's going to look a little, but Jericho seems to be the expert. Besides, Ripper's hurt helping her. "Don't sweat it. They're a pretty deeply scattered group," She offers.

"And yeah… I do." He doesn't even know about her grandpa beating a guy down with a vibrating bayonet slash sonic gun that vibrated him out of his armor. "You can look around with us. But I think you need a doctor and I know a guy who takes cash and doesn't ask questions. I can at least take care of that because you were hurt helping me." Poor guy.

The young man in the bloody medical jacket glances down at himself. "Meh." His self-concern is less than overwhelming. "This is an average Tuesday for me." Not that it is actually Tuesday. "Seriously, quit looking at me like that." He can't even see her eyes but he can still tell she's just feeling sorry for him. "Seriously, stop that. It's very weird for you to feel responsible for my injuries, and probably the craziest thing any of us have done tonight. Even crazier than the flying robot man who flies drunk." Because really, that's just as good an explanation for his crash landing and wild flying as anything else. "I'm going to leave before you give me sympathy cooties or something." Deep down though, it really DOES feel rather awkward to realize somebody is sincerely troubled by his wounds. Awkward, and fundamentally wrong to him.

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