(Untitled)

[evilgeniustobe]

It's one of the nicer mornings since Radek left. Sunny, and warm enough that he doesn't feel the cold seeping in through his dirtied jacket. The cut across his palm has become infected, he thinks. It stings and burns and it hurts to move his fingers, but he doesn't care. It doesn't bleed any more, and that's all that matters to him

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[shesgoingplaces]

Lizbet is exhausted, in so many ways. She's starting to feel hollowed out, but she'll pull herself together just enough for this. She has to try -- it's Radek, and that's enough to get her moving. Tidy up, comb her hair, pull thin gloves over thin hands and button her red coat. Pinpointing to Prague with Mathilda is easy, and then she's clearing her throat. "This way--this way first."

[agleonema]

"All right," Mathilda says, mildly. She's not surprised Lizbet figured out her identity in the chat room, although it does make her wonder who else might've guessed. Much like the other girl, she's wearing thin gloves and a coat, though hers is black. She's also armed, but that's the usual for her these days. "Lead the way."

[evilgeniustobe]

Radek is still unconcious just off the main street. There's a small pool of blood forming under his head.

[shesgoingplaces]

Lizbet moves purposefully, like she knows where she's going and what she'll do when she gets there. It couldn't be further from the truth, but it helps, somehow. She leads Mathilda down the side street Radek has found himself on, looking for a little cafe they went to once--

Her eyes snap to the fallen boy and she halts.

[agleonema]

Her first looks around Prague are critical ones, not admiring the city but examining every person she sees. Mathilda's gaze follows Lizbet, follows her eyeline, and she stills too, for just a second. Jesus. Quickly, she strides forward to see without even really thinking.

[evilgeniustobe]

He's unsuprisingly still, sprawled on the cement like he was artistically placed.

[shesgoingplaces]

Lizbet snaps back into action moments after Mathilda strides over, kneeling by him as soon as she realises that yes, this is her Knize. "Shit," she whispers.

[agleonema]

She sees the blood, and casts a wary glance down the street. No. No, they'd have to be long gone by now. "He needs to go to the hospital. What's the 911 here?"

[evilgeniustobe]

Unconciousness is not a terribly helpful state to be in.

[shesgoingplaces]

"112," Lizbet says, already pulling out her phone. Shit, shit, shit. She dials, speaking quietly in Czech when she gets an answer. She almost reaches out to Radek, but holds off.

[agleonema]

Mathilda kneels by Radek, checking out the state of his injuries. The state appears to be 'not good,' which is about the extent of her medical expertise.

[evilgeniustobe]

Not good would probably be an understatement. Radek is not a particularly large boy. And got hit in the head pretty hard a few times.

Also. Somewhere in all that he's lost his glasses.

[shesgoingplaces]

Emergency...things. Happen. Uh huh.

[agleonema]

Mathilda stands aside with her arms crossed. She is hoping the EMT people don't, say, ask them too many questions, and figures they won't, what with the bashed-up boy to care for.

[evilgeniustobe]

They do not, in fact, ask anything. Because Radek's head is kind of gushing blood. And that hand? That hand doesn't look good at all.

They cart him off to the hospital.

Radek still doesn't stir.

[shesgoingplaces]

Lizbet gets details to give his parents, who she calls -- she's been away most of the weekend, so she's purposefully vague about when and how she got to Prague and they don't question her (much).