✾ [ nineteenth hit ]

[neverplays]

[ The screen snaps on to reveal the backs of theatre seats. They seem all but empty, except for ones occupied by the owner of the phone and the individual beside her. The tuft of brown hair and Rudy-like nose that peeks through the edge of the screen answers that question. ]

You take your little sensitive ass up there and let me in. Get out of the

Comments

action;

[chessmastering]

[Mindy isn't the only one that undergoes a change in that moment; as she preoccupies herself with the blood running down her face, the boy sitting next to her is abruptly replaced by a young adult with a backpack at his feet and a pencil in his hand--fresh out of lecture, and now suddenly back in the City.

He blinks a minute, momentarily startled by the sudden change, and then his eyes flicker to the side--]

Mindy?

action;

[neverplays]

[ The change Rudy undergoes is lost on Mindy, too preoccupied with following the path of her wounds. One after another, they open, red spots soaking through her shirt in a haphazard portrait. A sharp cry forces through her locked jaw as puncture marks on her ankle re-open. ]

What kind of fucking curse is this? [ A sharp breath. ] Go find some gauze, Rudy. Go.

action;

[chessmastering]

[He doesn't need to be told twice. The disorientation abruptly disappears as he shifts his focus to the much more immediate problem--the state Mindy's in. With the speed of an Olympic sprinter, he hurdles up and over the theater seats, bolting down the hall as he calls back to memory the location of the nearest first-aid kit.]

action;

[neverplays]

[ See, Rudy, you never know when your unwanted skills will come in handy. As Rudy's away, Mindy finds herself slowly knocked in the head by her two recent injuries-- getting slammed into a desk table and shot out the window. The pain compounds, causing her to suddenly reel back then sink head first, across the chair beside her. She uses the arm of Rudy's seat as a head rest, pressing her forehead against the plastic as she takes deep, heavy breathes.

Goddammit. ]

action;

[chessmastering]

[Between his speed and his near-eidetic memory, he's back in minutes with the Palace's nearest first-aid kid, vaulting the chairs once again to save time. Mindy's a mess, and it's been a long time since his last Red Cross class, but he doesn't need to work a miracle here--just get her somewhat stabilized until he can call for more knowledgeable help.]

Talk to me. What's hurt worst?

action;

[neverplays]

[ She lets out what sounds like whimper, hidden bits of the kid she sneaking through the cracks, all those red lines scratched against her skin. There are battle scars, small marks that come about any sort of strenuous training with knives, swords, and should we mention guns? Relatively minor, scratch by scratch, but extremely painful as a collective. ]

Everything, dumbass. Everything that ever hurt-- [ Why does Rudy have to be here? Why does she have to make a fool of herself in front of him? ] I don't need you to comfort me, goddammit.

action;

[chessmastering]

I'm not comforting you, I'm ensuring you're still coherent.

[He snaps, voice on the verge of what might seem like impatience but is really a hint of concern seeping through Rudy's normally perfect mask. Yanking open the first-aid kit, he wipes his hands clean and pulls on a pair of gloves before reaching for the gauze, offering her a bit to hold against her nose as he focuses on the other assorted scratches.]

Talk.

action;

[neverplays]

Can't beat me this easily. [ She takes the gauze, blotting it against her nose, wincing as the bruised flesh reacts to her touch. ] I'll be fine. That's how it always is.

action;

[chessmastering]

[And he proceeds to start cleaning up what blood he can, clearing it away to try to get a better look at which wounds need the most attention.]

Whenever you're injured on account of your night job?

action;

[neverplays]

[ You don't want to see it all, Rudy. Soon you'll be wondering Mindy's ever been locked in a dungeon and beat. ]

Don't know what you're talking about. [ There's another groan. ] If you're gonna make me talk, let's leave the bullshit alone.

action;

[chessmastering]

[He certainly doesn't, but he's not about to let her die, either. Which, to be honest, he's not ruling out as a possibility at the moment.]

Oh. You haven't told me yet? The hazards of time travel.

[He mops up some more blood and then finds the worst of the still-bleeding wounds, beginning to apply light pressure.]

Do you have your phone on you?

action;

[neverplays]

[ She looks up at Rudy, exposing a new black eye. Clothes cover more of her wounds, while other injuries are hard to distinguish; all her bangs, bruises and knocks. ]

Jacket pocket. Seat next to me. [ Yes, phones. Doctors. But wait- ] Still not getting your bullshit.

action;

[chessmastering]

Jacket pocket.

[With one hand maintaining pressure, he scrabbles in the direction of the pocket with the other, freeing her phone and thumbing into her list of contacts in search of medical assistance.]

Mechanics of time travel. I, from the future, remember an event that you, in the present, haven't experienced yet.

action;

[neverplays]

[ Mindy buckles over again, in her crouched position, another heady injury somewhere along the line layering atop the others. Her head tips to the side, landing against Rudy's chest just as he reaches over to grab the jacket. ]

action;

[chessmastering]

[It's instinct that prompts him to reach an arm around her as she falls against him, holding her steady as best he can with one hand while his other handles the phone, and then abandons it on the ground as it dials to free up his other hand in the meantime.]

Keep talking to me, Mindy. Today's date. My name. Something.

[Still waiting for the call to go through, he grabs her jacket and arranges it into a pillow of sorts, intent on making her as comfortable as he can in the meantime.]

action;

[neverplays]

In Alias of the Scarf. Green Hornet, 1967. Kato and Green Hornet- had to- [ Slowly, very slowly, she speaks. The words are muffled against the jacket, but they're undeniably there. She doesn't fidget from her position, not even aware of how it looks-- that sort of thing doesn't matter in a situation like this. ] They had to fight a wax figure who came alive. The Scarf.