Participants:
| Scene Title | Joe's No Good Very Bad Night |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Joe lands, wakes up and assesses his situation. |
| Date | March 30, 2018 |
Half destroyed building somewhere in the Bronx. Just after the events of Far And Away
Claws and teeth ripping and tearing, the growl and snarl of wild animals, Joe’s cries of pain echo through the hallway as he fights off the wild dogs that rip and tear at his skin. His impenetrable skin. Then Eimi is there, a bare touch before the world goes black. Everything stretches and tears and he can feel himself coming apart at the seams as forces unknown tear at his very being. Then there’s a heavy impact before everything goes dark again.
He’s cold. So very cold. His breathing is labored and ragged as his consciousness fights to the surface, refusing to be buried under the heavy blanket of sleep. His eyes crack open, and as they do the pain strikes. Pain is not something Joe is used to. He knows the sensation. His adoptive father made sure he’d be able to keep going even if injured. But it’s still not a familiar feeling. He groans, the sound loud in the eerie silence of the Bronx. He lifts his head up, his vision swimming as he takes in the brick wall he came crashing through.
“Laaaance.” He calls out, though the sound is hoarse, his voice thick with pain, radiating from his shoulder and gut, washing through his body. “Bry… yeah Joe, call for Brynn. Smart one… Eiiimi!” He calls out, voice growing with strength. When he hears no responses though he doesn’t continue shouting. “What h…” But even as he asks it it all comes rushing back. The room, the corpses, everyone screaming and shouting. “Fear… thingy?” He murmurs, sitting up further, then slumping backwards, surprised to find a wall behind him. “Hello wall. Thank you for being there.” He mumbles it as he lets his eyes track around.
He’s in a building, or the remains of one, a fresh hole in the half collapsed brick wall where he came crashing through it. Exposed piping sticks out, the tarnished gleam of old copper a tell tale sign of the age of the building. Copper… that should hold shouldn’t it? He picks his way up off of the ground, a long whine coming from him at the pain in his gut. Internal damage. Not something he’s had to deal with before. But he knows the signs of it. He presses against his stomach, not hard, just lightly to feel what kind of pain and solidity is behind it. Too solid and he’s bleeding a lot.
Joe’s sigh is loud in the still night air. Not too badly hurt. Not yet anyway. But he needs to get a hospital. Lady Zeus’s place maybe. That’s a hospital right? They’ve got doctors. He staggers over towards the copper pipes, his right hand undoing his belt as he walks, his left hanging limp at his side. There’s a whisper of material as he gets the army surplus belt undone and pulls it through the loops of his pants, then lifts his left hand with his right and begins lashing it to the pipe.
“This is reeeeally gonna hurt.” He mumbles aloud, talking to himself. Once the belt is secure he gives it a couple of tugs before he leans back and twists his body, wrenching his arm and with a sickening pop his shoulder is put back into socket. There’s a sharp cry of pain from him, and then he collapses to his knees, panting.
After a couple minutes of letting the pain abate he rises back to his feet and undoes his belt, replacing it around his waist. Then he starts to feel himself down, checking his supplies. 9 mil in it’s shoulder rig under his hoodie. Boot knife strapped to his calf under his jeans. Mostly crushed matches in his left pocket. No flashlight, no food and no water. He leans out of the hole he made in the wall, looking around but can’t quite tell which direction he needs to be going, the night making it hard to tell where he is.
“Daytime then. In the morning I’ll start on my way back.” He looks down at his stomach, a wince as he moves over to the corner and takes a seat, leaning back, pulling his hood up for warmth in the night. “Lets go explore the ruins guys. It’ll be awesome.” He lets out a long sigh, then looks towards the hole in the wall again. “I really hope you guys are okay.”
As he sits he slides his hand up under his hoodie and pulls his pistol free. Sure he doesn't have any light to work by, but he's not taking the gun apart, just checking to make sure it works. His hands move over the familiar weapon, checking to make sure everything is fine that he can without opening the gun up. When he's satisfied with it he puts it back in it's shoulder rig holster and leans his head back slowly, resting it against the brick behind him. He sings softly, just a few lines of a song as sleep starts to cloud in on him.
I'm all alone.
There's no one here beside me.
My troubles have all gone.
There's nothing to deriiiide me.
The last line is sung as little more than a whisper as he drifts off to sleep.
But you gotta have friends.