|
|
Post by Cupid on Jun 26, 2016 5:17:03 GMT
If he ever wanted to know what it was like to get hit by a truck, he felt now was that time. It was eye opening trust in that, but he sure as hell didn't want to ever feel like this again. Alas, it was what he got for giving attitude to the wrong person. How the hell was he supposed to know they guy actually had super strength? He was short as hell. To Cupid, the guy was tiny even! That aside, he rested his case. He had little defense against a punch that came from said pissed of vigilante, and even less against his friends who weren't his cup of tea either.
This, among many other reasons, was why he hated walking around the city at night, but what choice did he have? Either he roamed during the day, risking his ass getting tossed in SUPER prison by some hero from the Initiative, or suck it up and do his best to keep out of people's way in the evening hours. It seemed that no matter what little social interaction he did when he left though, shit like this was always happening to him. He just couldn't get a break.
Pathetically he'd attempted to fly home, but he feared that if he pushed himself he'd break something. While his wings were flexible, he swore one of his bones was at least bruised, fractured maybe. It hurt like hell, to put it plainly, to even flap them as he tried getting off the ground. This being why he'd ended up hidden a several feet into an alley, preying to anything holy in this world that those guys wouldn't find him here.
Wincing as he pulled out his cell from his back pocket, he scoffed as the human instinct to call the police bubbled to the surface of his thoughts. Stupid wasn't it? Maybe now was the time to actually talk to his ex. Though, seeing as how he looked like shit, he couldn't bring himself to take the idea seriously while staring back at the bright led screen. "Cheer up idiot, you're alive." Heart still beating, that was good right?
"..Right." And now he was a total lunatic talking to himself in an alleyway. |
|
i know a little sin to which we can aspire
|
Jul 13, 2016 10:50:17 GMT
Post by sovereign on Jul 13, 2016 10:50:17 GMT
it might be a little weird, but it was the rest of kingsport that aidan found unpleasant. surreal, he knew, but when you got used to arkham everything else felt kind of... wrong.
that said, arkham hoods didn’t seem to have the same issue, so he ends up on the mainland sometimes just to pursue idiots who think a little thing like territory is going to save them. there’s blood under aidan’s fingernails, probably a pretty spectacular bruise blooming up his back, but there’s a USB stick in his pocket and the text has gone out. all he needs to do now is get back home.
he drops down into the alley via the drainpipe, lands neatly. his car is just at the end, but as he turns the corner he stops short. guess it’s too late to approach the other way.
the guy looks messed up, aidan thinks, even as he approaches with gloved hands held up, non-threatening. “hey, are you alright?” the accent gives him away as non-local basically immediately. “are you hurt, do you need help, or -” the brown eyes flick across the other man even as he crouches down, “an ambulance or something, maybe?”
Cupid |
|
|
|
Post by Cupid on Jul 28, 2016 9:12:44 GMT
She glanced at the texts as they arrived. It was amusing to her that he was having such a rough time getting to the bar, partly also because it eluded in the tone of his messages that he had just as long of a day as she had. For that reason she let him off, replying with simple responses like 'don't worry about it' 'take your time', but clearly said with bemused sarcasm. Luckily for him she'd already started before he could offer, and by the time he arrived the buzz had already began to settle in.
Slowly he tucks his cell back in his pocket. Stifling a pained shudder as his wings adjusted with his movement, Cupid tipped his head up to gauge how far up the roof tops of these buildings were. If he could just get to the top of one, he could try to glide over the tops of them surely. It could be enough, just enough to get him home before he totally passed out from exhaustion.
Wiping blood from his chin that he felt drip from his busted lip, he sniffled, and readied himself to sit up. 'You can do this. You're not weak. You've felt worse.' He repeated to himself, just about the best sort of pep talk he could muster without completely giving up on himself. Then he heard a noise from the open end of the alley way.
His eyes grew fear sinking into his stomach before he could think twice about who the voice belonged too. In a reflexive measure to protect himself, one of his wings, smattered with blood and loose white feathers lifted and shielded his face. "Back off!" He manages to choke out, but he's aware he doesn't at all sound threatening. He registers the man's accent belatedly, knowing it not to be from one of those that had attacked him before, but that didn't mean much.
It was obvious he was hurt, yes, but Cupid wasn't sure if he could trust him, even with his offer. Though the thought of him calling the police, or anyone from the government was not going to help him at all. "No!" He shouted, albeit a bit anxiously, before lowering the wing that had once been shielding his face to look at the person in question. "Please, don't." He didn't want to go to some super prison, and the look he gave him, with its worry and fear gave that away. "..If you're one of them come to kill me, you should just get it over with."
Not the best introduction he knew, but if this man knew what he was talking about Cupid thought he'd be able to tell. Worst case scenario he would die. At least then it would come quicker than this struggling around the city.
sovereign |
|
i know a little sin to which we can aspire
|
Jul 28, 2016 15:48:58 GMT
Post by sovereign on Jul 28, 2016 15:48:58 GMT
“whoa, relax, mate, i’m not out to hurt you.”
aidan’s not exactly easily spooked - he’s seen enough in the last few years that he’s a bit worried he’s getting jaded, honestly, and someone with angel wings shrieking at him to fuck off isn’t even in his top ten. but injured people are stupid, and while he doesn’t stop his approach he does it slowly, making sure to be visible at all times. his hands are still open, palms shown to prove he’s not armed.
he doesn’t remember anything about wingèd supervillains, but best be cautious.
“alright, fella, no worries. just settle. i’m not out to kill you. they call me sovereign, i try to help people. mostly work arkham, but it’s your lucky day.” he’s already doing a mental inventory of what he has in the first aid kit, casting an eye over the other man’s injuries. he gets a knee down on the rough asphalt to maximise his balance - out of arm’s reach, but it’s those big wings he’s wary of, ready to block a swipe of them at his head. “it’s probably not safe for you here, especially if someone’s after you. can you walk? i’ve got a medical kit in my car, i know enough to maybe patch you up a bit. better than just lying down in the gutter, right?”
Cupid |
|
|
|
Jul 28, 2016 22:04:50 GMT
Post by Cupid on Jul 28, 2016 22:04:50 GMT
He didn't expect anyone in their right mind to help him. He looked a mess, like a whole lot of trouble really, and not something you'd want to bring home. So, as he watched the man with open palms approach him, he was just warry about his intentions. For obvious reasons he tended to not expect much out of strangers, especially if they said they were going to help. He was uncertain if there were any heroes that matched his profile. There were just so many of them in the city he couldn't keep track. With that thought in mind he kept his apprehension. Given a name, and a 'sort of' occupation, it cleared some things up. Cupid didn't know any heroes that would actively work in Arkham and openly so. So that idea was slowly fading out of mind. Personally he felt like a complete paranoid idiot for considering it, but when the threat of permanent imprisonment was in question it made it easier to be overly paranoid and protective of oneself. "Arkham? You must be nuts." Or a villain, but Cupid didn't know of many villains that would just offer to help some loser like him. It did get the briefest smirk out of him, before he winced in pain. As far as walking, that he felt he could do, but he wasn't so sure he'd as easily fit into a car but he'd try if it got him out of this shitty situation. "Walking is easy," He then scoffed, his voice as melancholic as his smile. He just couldn't believe there was someone legitimately offering help at a time where he thought he was essentially screwed. "If you're being honest, I'll even clean your car after." What with the blood and feathers, no doubt he'd be making a total mess. It was the least he could do. sovereign,
|
|
i know a little sin to which we can aspire
|
Jul 28, 2016 23:14:21 GMT
Post by sovereign on Jul 28, 2016 23:14:21 GMT
the assertion actually prompts an undignified snort from aidan, usually so composed. “so people tell me, but it’s such a shithole that i’d feel bad not trying to do something about it. maybe i am nuts, who even knows.”
he offers a hand slowly, still a little wary of any sudden movements. “sure. let me help you up, get you going. you’re in a bit of a state.” there’s something about the other man - maybe the sense of utter defeat - that makes aidan want to see him set right. at least taken out of the alley. “you need any help moving? i’m stronger than i look, promise.”
the offer earns a shake of the head, a little frown on the parts of his face visible above the mask. “nah, it’s tucked away. quiet enough that i can sit you down there, i think. besides, let’s concentrate on getting you to the point where you’re not bleeding, shall we?”
he fixes his eyes on the other man’s face, a slightly quizzical look in his eyes. “have you got a name i can call you? doesn’t have to be your real one, don’t worry.”
Cupid |
|
|
|
Post by Cupid on Jul 29, 2016 6:10:15 GMT
He didn't know anyone in their right mind that willingly wanted to work in Arkham unless they were criminals themselves. Given the mask, Cupid didn't think Sovereign was his real name of course, maybe he was a criminal. However, he was in no position or authority to judge. Unless he went on killing sprees, he wouldn't insert himself into said business. While he wasn't the most moral character himself, he had his limit and his own rules. Considering the man was helping him now, he was more inclined to believe that he wasn't a serial killer. Well, unless he had some creepy van or something. "A bit of a state," He repeated to himself with a weak smile. "I think I'm a catch." Cupid reached a hand out to accept Sovereign's. He did so reluctantly on his behalf as well, but once he took it he carefully, and with much strain, stood. It took him a moment, once he was on his feet, to gather his bearings. He wavered as his head spun, but bent his legs to rest a hand on his knee until he could straighten himself and stand propperly. "Cupid," He tilted his head, peeking up at the man and giving him another one of his sideways smiles. He appreaciated the fact that he didn't press to hear his real name. He often felt guilty for omitting it at times, but he had his reasons. Standing straighter, the brunette did his best to keep his wings tucked, but the strain was too much while they were injured. Subsequently they touched the ends touched the ground, hinting at their length if it hadn't been apparent earlier. They were huge, annoying, and he'd attempted to cut them off before, but he'd try not to get in this man's way for more than he was worth. "I promise, I won't let you fall in love with me.~" He joked lamely, gesturing with his hands as if he were reeling back an arrow before he then of course wavered on his feet again and was forced to press his hands to his knees just so he wouldn't fall. sovereign,
|
|
