multiversallogs | open } { what a town without pity can do

Who: Alec and OPEN
What: Alec's arrival in Baedal
Where: Random roof not too far from the Inn.
When: Coardi (Wednesday) afternoon.
Warnings: None as yet.

Alec is sitting on a roof, somewhere in the city, nursing a bullet wound in his shoulder.

He knows this isn’t the place to be taking care of it, but there are some instincts that are louder than others, and finding out where he is takes precedence over his own physical health at the moment. Besides, it’s just a flesh wound. He’ll be fine. Thankfully, it has already stopped bleeding, and he’s immune to any infection that he could happen to pick up somewhere along the way.

Granted, that’s home and Alec doesn’t think this is home. Nothing smells familiar, and everything is new and different. He’s currently cursing his luck, because he was just starting to get used to Seattle and all it’s strange and different glory, and now in the course of the day he’s been shot by one of his best friends, woke up in a room with no way out, and told that hi, this is Baedal, and you are now so very screwed. Excellent job, Alec. Max is going to have a field day with this one. Never mind the fact that somehow, whoever left him here, got Rachel’s locket, and left it for him, like it’s some kind of welcoming gift. Alec doesn’t see it as much of a gift. He sees it as someone making a point, and it’s done nothing but piss Alec off.

In a big way.

One hand fists the thin chain in his pocket, while the other holds up the CiD for his careful study. It’s pretty basic technology, and it didn’t take it long to figure out how to work it, let alone page back a bit and see what information is there. There doesn’t seem to be much information on this “cohort” that doesn’t go back longer than a month or so, but it’s enough for Alec to see that there’s someone here with his face. Someone who isn’t Ben, from what he can tell, which is only confusing him more, and he isn’t going to make any rash assumptions until he can get up close and personal with this guy. It’ll just make his life easier if his nose is the one to make that decision—not that he’s inclined to get close anytime soon. Right now he just needs to figure out a game plan, stay off the network, and not attract any undue attention, up to and including the scary military people who had stormed the inn when he was being let out. He slipped out the back door, as he was trained to do, but that didn't guarantee he hadn't been seen. Still, it's all the same to him -- hiding from the military, hiding from the NSA -- it was all a matter of keeping a low profile.

He’s absolutely capable of that. “Blending in” is his middle name.

But that doesn’t mean he can’t touch base with the one person here he does know, and hope she’s not from a time where she hates his guts. There’s a quick private message to Max over the network, and then the CiD gets tucked safely back in his pocket as he waits for her response. This day has been rough enough without getting the whole world in on it.

If there is ever a dude in serious need of a hug—this is it.

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Sonja's propensity toward heights has no real origin--she's just comfortable up there, away from people. She's a little bloodsplattered from that evening's activities (freelancing for the fogtraders' guild hasn't been hugely profitable just yet, so she's found other means that pay), but not actively injured, and when she comes through the upraised door leading to the roof, she's already shucking her jacket in favor of breathing.

She forgot how different the city is at night. Different, and much more populated, a fact she's confronted with when she finds someone on her roof.

(Okay, it's not hers, and she reminds herself as much. She's just kind of prone to taking over the entire universe if left to her own devices.)

"Busy night up here."

Apparently.

The scabbard and sword strapped to her back are exposed now that she's left the jacket on the open doorframe, but she's utterly nonchalant about it.

There really is nothing hotter than a girl with a sword.

Alec hears her coming before he sees her or smells her, but when he does smell her, there's something -- off. Not human off, but not transgenic either, so he keeps his cool and does his best not to piss her off. After all, he likes swords, but he doesn't want to get up close and personal. His head tips back to look at her, and he smirks.

"Sorry -- if this is your roof, I can find another one."

"I don't own the building." Which is neither a request to leave nor encouragement to stay--Sonja assumes most people will do what they want, and most of the time, she leaves that up to them.

Except when she's being all Lady Commander and gets bossy, but that has no bearing on the present situation.

She moves sideways rather than toward Alec, perching on the roof's nearby high ledge.

"Avoiding the militia?" Given their recent activity, she finds it reasonable to ask.

She has no idea whether Alec is in her cohort or not, since she can't see his CiD, but given the size of the city she is inclined to guess not, simply due to numbers. All the same, she has observed that nearly everyone studiously avoids the militia, and if someone doesn't, they're either a part of it, or a supporter.

Alec's commentary on Sonja's bossiness as Lady Commander is going to have to be saved for another day. But believe it -- he has some.

"I'm not really big on organized military. Talking to them tends not to go well for me."

And that much is the truth. They do tend to try and kill him. Often.

Max arrives at Alec's location not too long after her last response to him comes through the network. She's taken the liberty of picking up some medical supplies (peroxide, gauze, bandages), because even if his wound is really just a scratch and they're immune to whatever infection they'd typically pick up, she'd feel better if it were bandaged on the off chance that one of those monkeys is still lurking around.

"I'm here," she calls out as she reaches the top of the building, an act she knows is unnecessary because he can hear just as well as she can. She holds up the bag as she starts to climb over the edge of the roof. "And look, I brought you a present."

Alec turns, starting to shed his jacket without waiting to be told to do so. Arguing isn't going to get him anywhere and he knows that.

"And it's not even my birthday," he says with a smirk, starting to clear the area around the wound. "That's sweet of you, Maxie."

"Don't ever say I don't care," she replies with a similar smirk, which gives way to a grim expression as she breaks out the supplies and carefully begins cleaning.

"There was an infestation here not too long ago, right after I arrived," she explains as she works. "A bunch of monsters were running wild throughout the city, and one of them - well, I guess a type of them - were carrying some nasty infection with them." And now that she's done cleaning the wound, she starts applying a bandage, eyes now on his. "None of them are around now, and I'm not even sure it would've affected me that badly, but I'd rather you be safe now than sick later."

"An infestation," Alec sighs letting her tend to his shoulder. "Of virus monsters. The more I learn, the better this place looks."

Sarcasm. All of it.

"How long have you been here?"

"And slugs that made everyone sick, and some giant armadillo that carried the ones that bit people, and birds that pecked people to death and fell apart into beads when you killed them," Max continues, sounding about as world-weary as one would expect after recounting that experience. "Don't you miss home already?"

More sarcasm. To say she misses home would be a bit of a strong term, but at least she knew what to expect there. Or thought she did. The situation Alec was describing over the CiD didn't sound much better.

"A little over a week. Apparently the type of monsters that were infesting the city are less than common, but there's all kinds of different species of people here."

"More and more every minute."

Alec doesn't know what to do with all this information. It's not computing with the logical side of his brain, and he doesn't know what to do. But he's glad Max is here. At least he isn't alone in all this.

"So more than just humans. Any transgenics?"

"Just you and me," she says as she finishes bandaging the wound. "All done - I haven't exactly taken a poll, but I haven't seen anyone I recognized from home up until you arrived."

Well. That's not entirely true, but she hasn't met Dean in person yet, although she's aware that he's around and that he bears a disturbing resemblance to Alec and Ben for someone who's not from their world, as far as she knows. But she'd seen how he fought off the monsters. That style wasn't anything that Manticore taught. She has yet to approach him in person or attempt to talk to him on the network, because she's still trying to process how it could be possible.

She'll wait to find out whether or not Alec's discovered the fact that he has a double here - if he has, she doubts he'll keep it to himself.

Edited 2011-06-20 18:35 (UTC)

He moves to shift his shirts and jacket back into place, before turning and looking over the world again. He actually has seen bits of Dean while he's flipping through the CiD, but he hasn't decided what to do about it yet. He doesn't have enough information, and that's the frustrating thing. He needs to get close to that guy before anything else happens.

"So it's just you and me," he takes a breath and nods back to her. "Have someplace you're crashing yet?"

"Just the Inn, so far," she says, nodding towards the building she came from. "They start charging you board after two weeks, but I haven't had a chance to look anywhere else yet."

He nods. "Figure job first, different place to live second? Unless there's some place to squat that you haven't tracked down yet."

Max is the expert in that department. It is what she does at home, after all.

open } { what a town without pity can do

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either taking place after sonja leaves or we could do a threeway tag, i'm good with either!

let's do after.

works for me!

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