(Untitled)

[of_highdegree]

Who: John Kenway and you.
When: Saturday, early evening.
Where: Just outside the Rice Building.
What: Smartphones are for pansies.
Warnings: None.

Comments

[splice_of_life]

Mohinder was just coming back from the storage room at the Medical School. He needed some beans and, luckily, there were quite a lot of them and all for the taking. He had two sorts, white kidney and chickpeas and therefore, was grinning to himself as he rounded the bend.

No, he hadn't seen John, and given that he'd been here for two weeks now, he was pretty good with faces. John's face? Not something he recognized at all.

"Oh, sorry about that!"

[of_highdegree]

John had heard him coming. Hearing someone coming and being able to anticipate them barreling into you were two different things, however, and he barely made it out from underfoot before he came crashing into him. Things were always infinitely harder when you feigned a limp in public as often as possible.

Frowning, he straightened a bit and leaned heavily on his cane. "It's quite alright, boy." A beat. "I don't suppose you could tell me where we are, exactly?"

[splice_of_life]

Oh God! He nearly ran into an old man! Mohinder's thoughts were somewhat erratic, half understandable, and completely charming in that bumbling professor sort of way. Mohinder reached out a hand to steady John, taking the other can under his arm to do so. "We're... Well... Oh."

Wait. So John was new? It'd been two weeks since what Mohinder understood as the last group of people so--

"We're in America. This is Miskatonic University in Arkham."

[of_highdegree]

"I see." No new information and, from what he could tell from his thoughts, rambling as they were, he was neither lying nor behind his appearance here. That was reassuring and frustrating, both in equal measure. "And how did I come to be here?"

[splice_of_life]

Now that is a neck scratcher. Mohinder frowns up at John, feeling a bit ridiculous to even say this. "I suppose they found you on the streets outside of campus and brought you back here. When did you wake up?"

[of_highdegree]

"A half hour ago, at most," he answered, still looking more than a little sour. He hadn't actually bothered to check the time, but it felt like it could have been no longer than that. "I'd imagine you've been here longer, though."

That wasn't mind-reading, that was simply paying attention.

[splice_of_life]

"Two weeks? I'm not sure really what say it is. They sort of drift together and..." Oh, half an hour. This poor man has no idea. Mohinder shifted his load to the other arm to free his right hand for a shake. "Mohinder Suresh. Pleasure to meet you. I wish it could be under better circumstances... Have you see the messages on the mobile?"

[of_highdegree]

"John Kenway," he answered, taking Mohinder's hand in his. After a pause, and almost reflexively he added, "A pleasure to meet you, as well, Mister Suresh."

Taking his hand back, he made a small, disdainful face, though one very obviously not directed at Mohinder. "I've seen the one the Dean of the university left, but nothing more, I'm afraid. I had no great interest in browsing the internet when finding someone who could explain what was going on seemed far more important."

[splice_of_life]

"I'm sure there are quite a few people that can tell you better than I can, but I can certainly help. Were you going anywhere in particular?" Mohinder could certainly use the company for the walk back, but John's limp directed him towards one of the benches along the side of the not quite manicured any longer lawn. He gestured for the older man to sit.

The cans between them, Mohinder smiled at John with tired, red rimmed eyes and a sort of darkness that spoke of sleeplessness.

"I'm not sure, quite, what's going on. We were attacked the night I woke up here...haven't been since, mind you, but I don't doubt it'll happen again."

[of_highdegree]

"Not entirely," he said, taking a seat on the bench slowly, stiffly. He rested his cane against what he pretended was his good leg and flashed Mohinder a brief, self-depreciating smile. "I suppose I planned on stopping the first person I met and doing as I'm doing now -- trying to get some answers."

Or simply flying away. He'd get to that once Mohinder was gone and he was alone again.

He shrugged faintly, the smile fading as quickly as it had come. "Attacked by who?"

[splice_of_life]

"By what, actually," Mohinder said as he fished his mobile from his pocket and flicked through it slowly. He came across the image of the creature he took from the window before hiding in the bathroom with Elle. And then the message that the Advisor had sent.

[of_highdegree]

Shifting in his seat, John leaned to study the images Mohinder brought up on his phone. "What the devil is that?"

He'd seen a great many things in his life, himself among them, but he'd never seen anything like the things that had apparently attacked the campus. He was surprised and curious, both in equal measure, though beyond a brief, calculating look, he took care to play up the former. Best not to look like oddities were a part of his every day life.

[splice_of_life]

"That... It's called a flying polyp according to the news source here. I don't-- It was a bit frightening. I only glimpsed it."

Mohinder was sugar coating it for himself because of how very awkward that was. Hiding in the bathroom? Ridiculous. He gently pocketed the mobile when John gave it back.

"It's been some time since they... I'm rather hoping they stay as far away as possible. But on a different note... If you need anything, I can help you."

[of_highdegree]

John was fairly certain that, assuming he was still trapped here in a week or so when he needed to eat, he'd regret ever saying that. He made no mention of that, however, instead offering Mohinder another tiny, thin smile. "I'll keep that in mind. And I certainly appreciate it."

[splice_of_life]

Mohinder picked up his cans again. "I know I said it'd been safe for a bit," he said, standing carefully, "but I wouldn't stay outside for too long if I were you." Mohinder certain;y didn't.

The poor man was like a scared, frightened rabbit running on empty here. He was having trouble sleeping, fitfully eating only when he had to, and more or less looked fairly horrible to even the untrained eye.

[of_highdegree]

Slowly, sighing, John got to his feet as well, scooping his cane up as he went so he could put his weight on it as he stood. "Something else to keep in mind, then."

He didn't shift to hobble away, however. Instead, he hesitated, frowning, his eyes darting over his face as he studied him. He had no reason to do this man any favors, beyond the fact that he had offered him one -- offering and doing were two different things -- but, well, he looked like hell. And he supposed he could help with that. Not everyone coped with the supernatural well.

That in mind, he straightened just a bit and caught his eyes deliberately. "Whatever's bothering you, boy ... let it go. Get some rest, mm?"