In an alley behind a rather nice Chicago hotel, there's a blue-haired demon wrapped in a coat, with an overnight bag at her feet. She licks the blood off her crimson-and-black-splatered hands like it's no big deal, and tries to ignore the black blood running down her legs
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Something happens in the form of Harry Dresden, who's been prowling random streets just trying to work out the differences between this Chicago and the one he calls home.
At first, he just passes by the alley without pausing. And then he stops, backtracks, and just stares down the alley at the girl covered in blood and who knows what else, and given the scene in front of him, he can't decide if she's in trouble or if she is the trouble. ...then again, he guesses, there's no reason it can't be both.
"Uh..." Something witty probably goes here. Give him a minute.
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Walls are good and help you not fall down.
"Keep walking, mister."
She takes another drag off her cigarette, which may be a mistake. Her hands are shaking a little.
"Everyone that needs to be called was called. Walk away."
She makes little walking motions in the air with her fingers by way of demonstration.
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"See, I would do that," he says slowly, "but I'm really not good at walking away from women covered in blood. I realize it's a personal failing of mine." And regardless of whether people have been called, she looks like she's about ready to fall over any minute now. Oh yes, he notices how friendly you're getting with that wall, Indy.
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Oh yeah, she's threatening.
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That's not to say she's just going to leave Indy on her lonesome, of course. Adonis is coming round the alley accompanied by a Glaysa.
Just in case.
The glays takes up residence at the mouth of the alley, leaning back against the wall and lighting a cigarette, perfect faux-casual. Adonis wanders in, a computer bag slung over his shoulder, though this one contains not a laptop but a light trenchcoat and a carton of wet wipes which he pulls out and tosses, idly, from hand to hand before offering them as he draws near.
"Ms. Jones?"
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Indy's trying to remember how much blood you can lose before you die. It seems like this would be a useful thing to know, as while the puddle beneath her isn't that big, for a puddle of blood, there's more of her blood upstairs.
She needs that blood.
Still, there's only so long she can lean against a wall, so after a somewhat more thorough wiping, she looks up at Adonis again. "Little bit of help? Please?"
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"Um." She looks down at the gash on her abdomen. "I think I need a bigger... wipe. Thing." And she hasn't even gotten to the worst injury yet.
"I'm Indy. Hi."
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"I'm Mio. I'd say nice to meet you, Indy, but I think we both wish it was under better circumstances," Mio says. "I don't have any bigger wipes, but I do have more, and I've got bandages for when you've got that cleaned off as best you can. How long do you think it will be until your people get here?"
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