➹ | 001 | Video/voice

[peektuttut]

[The video clicks on abruptly, showing the morgue ceiling for a few seconds; then it clatters off its slab and onto the floor, propped up at an angle. Above, Tim's woken up. He's moving quickly, but jerkily, an clearly injured. His right arm hands at his side, useless with his shoulder dislocated. So when he stumbles as he slides off the 'bed,' he

Comments

[ex_julianhe]

video

City by the name of Abax, and everyone in it is listening.

Didn't you get the toe tag?

[peektuttut]

Toe - oh.

[WHY DOES IT SAY ROBIN AND HIS FULL NAME WHO KNOWS WHO KNOWS and why is their information out of date, he isn't Robin anymore. :|a Of course none of this shows on Tim's face, because Tim's emotionally retardant.]

This is normal, then?

[ex_julianhe]

permavid

Not in my world.

But it's normal here, that's how everyone shows up. Except for the falling part.

[peektuttut]

[Derp, permavoice on Tim's end!]

Not an hallucination. That's comforting. [He's talking funny, though, like his mouth isn't quite working.]

How many people are here?

[batmanschmatman]

Dick had been keeping to himself, mostly. Monitoring the network, watching the other inhabitants, learning everything he could, but mostly just feeling a little dead inside. He hadn't gone too far from the hospital in terms of living conditions - actually usually crashing in one of the unoccupied rooms other people seemed to be avoiding - and was still trying to figure out exactly what his next move was going to be. What it even could be, really.

And it was a moment like this that he noticed the new post, and watched as another person arrived, apparently (definitely) injured, and while admittedly, he's already getting up to go see if he can help, the shot of the new arrival's face is enough to make everything stop for a while three seconds because he knows him before he was bolting towards the morgue

[peektuttut]

He'd found a bandage to deal with some of the worst bleeding - the slice across his chest - but it was still seeping right through, and Tim was pretty sure that was a bad sign. That didn't stop him from jerking his eyes up when he heard rushed footsteps, didn't stop him from dodging behind an examination table, keeping out of sight. He knew it wouldn't help; even if the room was bigger, even if there were more places to hide - he'd left a trail in red.

But - no. He knew that voice. Tim frowned, playing the soundbite over in his head. Tim? Tim hesitated, then rose slowly, hand pressing the bandage to his chest.

"Dick? How did--" Okay, ow. Talking with a fractured jaw is a bad idea. He should remember this.

[batmanschmatman]

For a whole second, Dick had wondered if he'd hallucinated or if Tim had escaped or anything, but that trail of blood sent him right back into motion, and he grabbed a few of the t-shirts people had been leaving outside the morgue and rushed in, dropping down next to Tim and trying to figure out just how badly he was hurt.

He distantly realized he looked older - why did he look older? - and totally beat to hell, but this was unmistakeably Tim, and he definitely looked like he'd been kicked out of a forty story building. He immediately tore one of the shirts into strips and gently moved Tim's hand to start applying pressure on the wound on his chest.

"Hey. How bad?"

And don't you dare try to hide anything or lie about it, because we were lacking a little in medical personnel, and Dick was not letting you die or fuck yourself up more.

[peektuttut]

Oh, good. Someone who knew what they were doing. Tim started to relax, leaning back against the table he'd been hiding behind - but he was trying to straighten again, eyes widening as he studied Dick. "You look--"

How was he supposed to finish that sentence, exactly? 'Like shit?' 'Younger?' Something was wrong. Something had happened. "When did you wake up?" How long had he been here and could he please help pop that shoulder back into place? Tim reached for it, glancing down. Something was wrong, yes - and if this was going to be bad, he wanted both arms relatively functional.

[decanonized]

Voice

Christ, did this place get a snatch one bleeder get a dozen free special or something?

[peektuttut]

[All voice, all the time]

How many others showed up hurt?

[decanonized]

Not keeping that odds pool just yet, but enough. Just don't tell me you were off freedom fighting or some shit, too.

[peektuttut]

[...Welp.]

Sounds kind of self-righteous, don't you think?

[herewegoto]

[Text;encrypted]

Now there's a dramatic entrance. Need a medic?

[peektuttut]

[Text & encrypted forever]

[It takes him maybe ten seconds to work out the encryptions and imitate them; he'll be studying that soon.] Hope I got an A. And that depends who the medic is.

[herewegoto]

We'll see how you stick the landing.

A quirky salarian or a human nurse look like the current options. They're pretty sharp, at least one will probably reply themselves. Should warn you the latter has a much softer bedside manner, I guess.

[peektuttut]

What's a 'salarian?'

[nerdylilspidey]

[Video]

Holy-- First things first, are you okay?!

[peektuttut]

[Permavoice]

Not really. [He will probably have to switch to text soon, that fractured jaw isn't great for talking.] But I'll manage, thanks.

[nerdylilspidey]

[So the video's gone, but that doesn't keep Peter from being concerned.]

You sure? I mean... you're bleeding. Has anyone, like... come to help you out yet?

[peektuttut]

[There's quiet, shuffling noises on his end before Tim answers.] Yes. [Which he would have said whether or not Dick showed up, it's how he rolls. :V] Everyone bleeds, anyway. Who are you?