Comments | posthumanslogs: Capekillers, end round two

thelaughingmage in posthumanslogs

Capekillers, end round two

May 21, 2011 23:30

WHO: thelaughingmage
WHAT: Dumped like a sack of puppies on the roadside
WHERE: Seattle housing
WHEN: Saturday, May 21
WARNINGS: All the warnings.

( I get knocked down, but I get up again. )

aziraphale | ou, john constantine | ou, betsy braddock | ou

Comments 29

squashesdoves May 22 2011, 03:54:39 UTC

It would have been funny, really, under slightly altered circumstances; he'd done a bit of looking around in Manhattan, during the aftermath, but it was on returning to his apartment that he ran across John Constantine, spread out flat as a book with its spine broken on the front lawn.

"- hallo," he said, hastening to the man's side, "there you are."

Up close, the view was even more distressing than the cracked binding of such a book would've been, although it was at least reassuring that Constantine was lucid enough to have a smoke.

butterflybolts May 22 2011, 04:12:19 UTC

She was just stepping out to take a breath of fresh air. No patrol, nothing. She had the sudden need to. Just up and down the lane as it were, before heading back inside. It was how she came across this little scene.

It wasn't John that she saw, but instead the one who's now at his side. So, she chose to approach the man to see what it was he was inspecting. It was because of that that she was running 'gun-ports open' as it were, to immediately sense any hostile action that may be taken against her.

"Excus--" Sorry, Az, her greeting got cut off by a rather unladylike curse. A couple of things were now apparent. One: Oh hey, there, John, fancy seeing you sprawled out all over the lawn again. And two: Dropping her blocks even just the amount she did was suddenly a very bad idea.

To say John was giving her a sudden migraine might be an understatement.

thelaughingmage May 22 2011, 05:42:00 UTC

Betsy. Shit. John had felt less shame at flashing his neighbors than at knowing she could see what was in his head right now.

He closed his eyes against it. "Just get me up without killing me."

squashesdoves May 22 2011, 06:12:19 UTC

"In your current state? Could be difficult, my dear," said Aziraphale. "Let me help you with that."

He didn't wait for an answer. Nodding to Betsy, as one unsuspecting volunteer to another, he crouched down and passed a careful hand over John's torso, with the intent of fixing up the worst of what'd been done to his ribs. And the bones began to knit together, sure enough...

...but it was a good deal more difficult than it should have been. It was like basketweaving underwater: no more technically complex than it would have been in open air, but made tricky nonetheless by quirks of the surrounding medium.

Actually, what it most reminded him of was his occasional attempts to heal Crowley.

He frowned, and drew his hand back. There was still plenty of bruising, but he had a feeling that if he pushed his blessings too far without studying that sense of resistance more closely first he'd have a bunch of unraveled basket on his hands.

Thread 29