[OPEN; carnival event]

[todefydestiny]

Who: Eike Kusch, Chief Warden Tamaki, Bellatrix Lestrange, Regulus Black, Sirius Black, Elena, and OPEN.
What: The carnival.
Where: The fountain area.
When: September 15; late afternoon to evening.

Comments

[feverhound]

The adrenaline rush was still lingering even after the fight was over, and despite the throbbing pain that was pulsing through his shot back, Namae still felt good enough. Probably lightheadedness from bloodloss, he mused -- but what did it matter, a rush was still a rush. He took his sweet time fishing his lighter from his pocket, staying right where he was lying on the ground as he lit up. "I really wasn't asking much, was I?"

Dog shot Spike's cat a disdainful growl before nudging the communicator closer, and Namae gave it a distracted pet to the head before holding the device up to squint at the screen. His vision was starting to go, too -- haha, wasn't that funny -- and he kept the cigarette firmly clamped in his lips as he scrolled through the map at a leisurely pace. -- Right. There, right there. Fiddling with the controls, he marked the location of his and Genkaku's hideout with a little red dot, then tossed the communicator back in Spike's direction. -- not a very good throw, as it went clattering across the pavement.

"You'll be in trouble if you can't even handle Dog, y'know." Taking a long drag at his cigarette, Namae laughed, sounding sleepy as he gestured in the air. "The bastard has a fucking tiger -- your kitty's gonna be breakfast."

[7livesleft]

"That'd be a real shame." It'd almost be worth it if he could get rid of the thing. Not like he hadn't tried everything else already. Spike stared down at Namae and sighed away his irritation. He still didn't know much about Genkaku, or if he had the same kind of abilities Senji and the rest of them did. But he could bet it was going to take a lot more to get by him. He'd worry about it later.

Spike picked up the communicator and quickly checked the location, then switched to the network. He had a headache from the whole ordeal, and he strained to remember the name of the last doctor he talked to. How many weeks ago was that? It'd be just his luck if he wasn't there and he'd have to treat their wounds himself.

"Do me a favor, and don't die for a while." He thumbed through the list of filters, considering. "I don't know too many guys who make house calls, but I'll see what I can do."

[feverhound]

"What kind of pussy do you take me for, m'not gonna die." Oh wait, look, he was sweating, and a brush of his fingers over his neck signaled a pretty low-pressure pulse. Probably the start of hypovolemic shock. How nice. Taking a languid drag at his cigarette, Namae nursed the smoke for a while before laughing hoarsely. "The fuck is wrong with you, really. What does it matter if I die here, anyway."

Dog was nudging at his side, lapping at the pooling blood, and Namae lazily scratched it behind the ear from where he lay.

Still watching Dog lick at the puddle of blood, Namae listened to the low beeps of the communicator for a while before slurring at Spike, "Want any help, when you go off to --" A languid hand gesture, "-- challenge him?"

[7livesleft]

"Appreciate it," Spike mumbled, still focused on tracking down someone who might give a damn. N-something, wasn't it? Doctor Nii? Scrolling through the cache, he didn't see much activity from him. They were probably all out enjoying the festivities. He glanced back when Namae spoke up again and shrugged. "I don't really feel like letting evidence lay around. Leaving a corpse in the middle of a carnival doesn't do much for my reputation."

He looked back down the alley and tried to remember how far away they were from his place. If all else failed, he still had some things left over from the last time Gamma showed up full of holes on his doorstep. If he needed to, he'd call in one of the favors he owed him.

Spike didn't bother to tell Namae he shouldn't be talking; didn't surprise him that he still was. The guy didn't strike him as being very health conscious. "Who, Genkaku?" Spike smirked at that. He was a loyal son of a bitch. "I'd wait a while before you start offering to take a hit on anyone."

[feverhound]

"Shut up, I'm not gonna die. I've been through worse." Maybe talking was a bad idea, but Namae begged to differ. After all, there was that whole cliche about 'don't fall asleep, don't follow the light'! Not that he believed in that sort of bullshit, but hey, why not indulge in them once in a while? -- Musing over such useless, drunken thoughts, he laughed into the next lungful of smoke and very nearly choked on it, coughing to clear his throat. Dog had apparently had its fill of blood and sat down next to its master, staring at the cat.

And Namae laughed again at that last comment -- he was finding everything hilarious by now -- flicking his cigarette away. Didn't taste like much any more. "Same could be said for you. Fat lot of good you'll be with one arm." Haha. Laughing softly, he punched Dog lightly on the muzzle, smirking as Dog nudged him back with a growl. "Everyone thinks he's a villain, right? So no one'll care if he dies."

A cough. Ah, yeah. Maybe it'd be a good idea to stop talking. His breathing was getting a little bit shallow.

[7livesleft]

So had I. Spike was deep in thought as he pocketed the communicator. He didn't have the best track record with these things, but for one reason or another, he wasn't going to leave him to die. And since he couldn't wait around for the oft chance that a doctor might be nearby; that meant taking him back. Just great. He didn't miss Namae's quip and looked dejected when he replied. "That's funny.

"Doesn't matter to me either way," Spike continued as he crouched down, trying to get a closer look at his injuries. Namae's shirt was soaked through and his skin was almost translucent in its pallor. Although he was still breathing easily enough, which probably meant his lung hadn't collapsed yet. Always had to make things hard on himself, didn't he? As Namae had pointed out, carrying him was going to be a bitch with his arm shot up. Especially if he wanted to avoid the crowds.

"You're coming with me," Spike stated monotonously. Not that he owed him an explanation. He'd be passed out soon enough and then he wouldn't be able to argue. Glancing once at the dog, he shrugged off his suit jacket, talking to himself. "I told you not to move around so much."

[feverhound]

"Oh am I. Didn't know that." His voice had definitely lost its edge by now, and Namae sounded distracted as he spoke, shoving Dog's nuzzling snout away. Part of him was sorely tempted to tell Spike to fuck off -- even in this state, Namae hated to received help from anyone, the consequences be damned. But on the other hand, this was partly Spike's fault, wasn't it? For taking that much goading to finally get into a fighting mindset? Such a coward. -- ah, fine. Fine, whatever. If he died and ended up stuck in deadland, the crushing boredom there would probably obliterate whatever good mood he'd acquired here.

Figuring an answer wasn't really worth the effort, Namae merely hissed as he propped himself on his good arm, then staggered to his feet, swaying for a moment as nausea and dizziness attacked full-force. "Ah, you son of a bitch, making me walk."

Standing there with head bowed for a moment, he blinked slowly to gather his thoughts before looking at Spike. If anything, he was good at masking the strain he was putting on himself with his usual rotten smirk. "But alright. Lead the way, then, sir."

[7livesleft]

Spike was busy with himself, making a crude sling out of his jacket to keep his arm from jostling around on the way back. It was mostly numb by then, but moving it hit a few nerves and he grunted as he tied it off. He thought of having Jet look at it before his mind caught up with him. Hard to keep track of who was still around any more. That just meant he wouldn't be getting a lecture. He'd had enough of those for the day anyway.

Looking back the way he came, he could still hear the sounds of the carnival that continued on full force without them. It was a surprise they hadn't seen them by now, but hopefully they were wouldn't think to investigate on their own. The last thing he wanted was to have to come up with an explanation for all this.

"We're taking the scenic route," he said finally and turned back to Namae. When he saw him swaying he had to keep himself from rolling his eyes. The bounty hunter moved to his side, offering his good arm for support. "About ten blocks from here."

[feverhound]

This place had made him too soft. Too much time spent lounging around doing nothing had left him a little less fit than he would have liked, and he hissed in irritation at the way his vision wouldn't stop spinning. And it wasn't until Spike was just about next to him that Namae even realized he was there. Shooting Spike a venomous glare, then scrutinizing the offered arm, he snorted, then shook his head. "Ten blocks. Dearie me, how will I ever make it that far."

He was astute enough to know that one, he wouldn't last that much more, and two, the longer he stayed upright, the more likely he was to collapse. Fuck it if he was going to pass out on the streets.

Ignoring the way the air was whistling through his lungs in shallow breaths, he jerked his head towards the alley's exit. (Ignoring the dull pain that throbbed through his temples as a result.) "Just lead the way. Hurry up." Dog wad been hesitantly circling Namae's feet, and stepped away at those words. Looking at Spike, instead, and giving him a hard stare.

[7livesleft]

Well, that was the kind of reaction he'd anticipated. Mentally, he noted that Namae would go a long way for spite. Spike couldn't really blame him, he was the one who shot him after all, and he didn't push it. He held his stare for a moment, then turned around.

"Alright. Try to keep up." Spike slipped his other hand in his pocket and started walking, all the while listening for the sound of a body hitting the ground. He wasn't looking forward to carrying him once he passed out, but he'd brought it on himself. Maybe he'd get lucky and he'd pass a wheel barrel on his way.

"Sorry you have to miss the carnival."

[7livesleft]

Well, that was the kind of reaction he'd anticipated. Mentally, he noted that Namae would go a long way for spite. Spike couldn't really blame him, he was the one who shot him after all, and he didn't push it. He held his stare for a moment, then turned around.

"Alright. Try to keep up." Spike slipped his other hand in his pocket and started walking, all the while listening for the sound of a body hitting the ground. He wasn't looking forward to carrying him once he passed out, but he'd brought it on himself. Maybe he'd get lucky and he'd pass a wheel barrel on his way.

"Sorry you have to miss the carnival."