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Post by Møиø¢ħяøмe on Jan 20, 2017 17:01:06 GMT -5
Here we are Blue Blood! I'll just use my starter from the other RP since I'm kind of lazy and tired at the moment. XDDD
{Note: This is NEVER private! I am always willing to create duplicates! :3}
Requirements:
Be literate (Using proper grammar and not many typos.) Be descriptive (Using imagery and strong language.) And lastly be able to type at least 25 lines per post.
The reason why is because I would like to improve my writing skills!
Plot:
My guy and your girl live in a not-so-great city. The reason why is mostly because of my guy, who has the power to control fire. He is an infamous criminal who is unable to control his power sometimes, leaving people badly burned or worse. Occasionally, buildings get set ablaze as well because of him if he's seriously angry. Anyway, your girl is curious about him. She goes out one night, and hears a gunshot go off. Sometime later, the two of them run into each other, my guy clutching his chest. He is badly wounded, and your girl takes him to her house to patch him up. He ends up sleeping there too, and the next morning the police end up tracking him back to her house. They are forced to live on the run, as she is assumed a criminal as well for helping him.
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Post by Møиø¢ħяøмe on Jan 20, 2017 17:03:33 GMT -5
{Yeah this is the same starter as the other RP since I don't really want to type up a completely new one. XDDDD}
"Police are still searching for a guy by the name of Lucian Crow, who has the power to control fire. He has terror-" Lucian shut off the television without a second thought as they began talking about him. He hated hearing about people talking about him, as they never had anything good to say. "The guy's a monster!" "Tch, he should be in a lab. He's a freak, after all." Those were the kind of things he heard constantly, and he couldn't stand it. Although they had good reason to hate him, they didn't understand what he went through in his life. His parents always went out to drink, and they blamed all their problems on him, causing his life to become a miserable nightmare. One night as they mindlessly caused him to suffer, he became so angry that a flash of orange came out of nowhere and engulfed the entire house. The smoke alarms started blaring, and Lucian looked down to see the flames dancing across his hands. Lucian quickly turned away, bolting out of his house and heading far away from the scene. That day was forever burned into his mind as the day he discovered he had powers.
After that day, his life changed. He found himself getting into more fights than usual, and he had to steal for a living. There were burn victims around the city, and it only recently traced back to Lucian Crow, the only one who survived the devastating fire. The police had been after him for stealing, but now he was wanted for much worse. All the guy could do now was run, hoping he wasn't caught. If he did try to explain to the police that his parents were horrible people, it wasn't like that would do anything. They would just take him away and throw him into solitary confinement, give him the death penalty, or maybe even hand him over to the government to be tested on. It wasn't like he meant to do any of this though.
Anyway, Lucian shook his head to clear his thoughts and headed outside of the abandoned apartment he called home, walking briskly along the sidewalk. The night air was rather cold, as it was still winter. He had on an old black hoodie, the bottom of it permanently damaged from being touched by fire. His hood was covering his face as usual, although some messy black hair stuck out. The moon was high, and it was rather late. Maybe around two o'clock in the morning he guessed. Lucian had been on his way to the corner store that advertised it was open 24/7, planning to steal some food as his stomach had been growling all day. Passing by some stores and the park across the street, he came up to the corner store which happened to be well lit. Lucian walked around towards the side of the building, spotting a door that wasn't as noticeable. He tried the door, and luckily for him, it wasn't locked. He ended up walking right into the building, founds way to the store, and started to work fast by grabbing anything and everything he could. Mostly chips and drinks, he stuffed his pockets and the small duffel bag he took with him. The clerk shouted at him, and he knew the police were on the way. Lucian finished up and slung the duffel bag over his shoulder, making his way out the front entrance since that happened to be the closest to the alleyways.
The second he stepped outside, he saw quite a few police cars speed toward the place, pushing way over the speed limit. He figured they happened to be close by, already out searching for him. And just like that, he was surrounded. Silently cursing to himself, he took a deep breath, glancing around. There were tons of gas pumps, as this was a popular place to go. The police were shouting and getting out of their cars as Lucian tried to formulate a plan in a matter of seconds while panicking. Without hesitating, he sent out flames towards the gas pumps, but he was a second too late. As the fire met with the gas, he could feel a sharp pain enter his chest. A second after that happened, flames and smoke sprouted from every direction and Lucian took off running, using the smoke as a cover for his escape. Everything happened so quickly, but this time was different. The police had been given clearance to fire on him. Lucian was sprinting as fast as his legs could take him, fear and adrenaline fueling him as he didn't want to be captured.
He had always been so focused on escaping and high on adrenaline that he never realized how much his lungs burned from running. Today, he had noticed every bit of pain he felt as he rested somewhere in the maze of alley's in the city. Laying on the concrete with his right hand pressed on his wound, he caught his breath while staring at the stars. He began to think that this was what he probably deserved, and also what everyone else wanted of him. After a short while, Lucian stood up slowly, wincing at his every move. Tossing his duffel bad full of food over his shoulder and moving his free hand up to pull his hood back on, he started walking once more. All he wanted to do was go home now. His mission to get food was complete, although he had encounter some difficulties. Heading back onto the sidewalk and towards the direction of his house, he could only hope nobody else was out. In this weak and vulnerable state, he was pretty much an easy target for the police.
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Post by вlue вlood on Jan 20, 2017 18:59:15 GMT -5
( wooo hello!! thank you for making this cx what age is lucian, just so my mind's image knows what it's doing? c: will reply tomorrow, my body refused to accept a lie in this morning and now i'm super tired too ;~; )
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Post by Møиø¢ħяøмe on Jan 21, 2017 0:09:20 GMT -5
{Ah, of course! And hm...I'll probably make him 21. And alright! See you tomorrow then! :3}
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Post by вlue вlood on Jan 22, 2017 12:35:47 GMT -5
( aa sorry for not finishing this off sooner! c: )
Silvana shivered against the cold of the night. She always hated the walk home from work - namely, bar work in a little place across town; not exactly what she had planned on for her life, but hey, it paid the rent. For one thing, her co-worker who was supposed to take the following shift post-midnight was never on time, which meant she always ended up leaving late. Secondly, she could only ever dream of having the money to run a car, so she always had to walk the forty or so minutes to the other end of town to get home - a small apartment above an only questionably hygienic sandwich bar. These two things combined meant walking for a fair amount of time after dark in... well, not the most reputable city one might find themselves in. Silvana had mastered a dark expression that she hoped looked off-putting enough that, if she happened to pass anybody at those late hours, they would hopefully not try to stir up any trouble.
Thankfully, once she stuck her earphones in and let her feet take her home down the familiar labyrinth of dark, damp alleyways and narrow between streets, the walk was never quite as bad as it felt before setting off. Still, the thought of it, when she was tired and the outside air was chilly, never felt any better.
From somewhere ahead of her, the blares of sirens raised over her music. Silvana's step hesitated just a split second, but sirens were not something really worthy of nothing, at least not around here. It was like background noise to her now, and she was like pretty much anyone else in town - hardened to it's less attractive aspects, but aware, and she knew how to handle herself. Sort of like growing up somewhere with snakes or other dangerous creatures, she guessed; the fear was dulled by the normality of it all, and your life adapted to that vague sense of potential danger that always hovered around. Gunshot. This sound, too, was not unfamiliar, not to anybody who lived around here. The sound was too flat to be anything like a firework or anything of that sort - she could hear the distinction without even needing to think about it She quickened her pace. Trouble across the city was still trouble. She'd rather be at home, in bed, sleeping off sore feet from standing all night.
Close to home now, Silvana crossed the street, her eyes down as she thumbed absently at her phone, switching indecisively between music tracks. It was then, in her hurried pace, that her shoulder connected with the side of someone else, and she stumbled, swore loudly, but caught herself before she fell. Her earphones caught on something in the middle of it, and were jerked out of her ears. She turned sharply to the other person, a scowl on her face even though it was most likely her own fault for not paying attention. She wasn't particularly used to encountering anybody else out on the last stretch of her walk home. "Sorry," she muttered, in a voice that didn't sound remotely apologetic, and only as she paused to look the figure up and down did she notice the hand clutching in pain at a half-hidden wound. She promptly swore again, but the anger had left her voice, given away to surprise. "Sorry," she repeated again, actually sounding more like she meant it this time, although mainly she simply sounded confused, concerned. "Uh- oh, god- are you okay? Should I, ah, call someone...?" she trailed off, with an uncomfortable waving gesture with her phone in her hand. Someone meaning, she figured, an ambulance, or some other way of getting this guy some medical attention. She moved her head awkwardly, trying to get a better look both at what was causing him pain and at the face under the hood. Come to think of it, it hadn't even occurred to Silvana to question who had been shooting at who before, when the sirens had caught her attention earlier. Still, she couldn't just leave someone on the streets like this, right? What if the guy died? Okay, so it wouldn't be her fault, exactly, but it still made her think of blood on her hands. How else was he going to get help, in this city, at this time of night? Whoever he was, she couldn't turn around and go on her way now.
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Post by Møиø¢ħяøмe on Jan 26, 2017 1:45:52 GMT -5
{Ah, no worries! My apologies for replying late as well, I have tons of work to do this semester. ;^; And it looks really short ahhh. :'c}
Lucian's shoulder hit something hard, causing him to lose his balance momentarily before catching himself. Upon hearing the loud swearing, he turned sharply on his feet to glare at this person. He didn't apologize, as he had no need to anymore. Nobody apologized for calling him a 'freak' or 'monster', so why should he apologize to anyone else? Clutching his wound tighter from the anger he began to felt, he stopped as his hands were radiating with heat. Forcing himself to calm down a bit so he didn't lead the police right to him, he let out a sigh. He heard the woman apologize, though it wasn't at all sincere. The second sorry she had spoken with concern in her voice, but he quickly turned away. Her words came as a huge surprise to him, as she hadn't seemed to notice who he was or what had happened to him. He hadn't remembered the last time someone was actually worried for him. Sooner or later she would realize that he's just a petty criminal, the one who stole and killed. Although, he had really only did the last part in self-defense. Not like anybody seemed to care though.
"I-" Lucian's voice cracked, and he cleared his throat before speaking again, his voice rough, "I'm fine. I don't need help." An obvious lie. Lucian thought to himself, continuing to walk in the direction he had been heading in. The sooner he was home, the better. Then he could try to patch himself up and go to sleep. Finding it harder and harder to walk with each step, he had to press his free hand against the stores and buildings for support. Just a little further...
He had to admit it was nice to talk to someone without it being a threat to call the police, even though it was brief. He almost couldn't believe that someone was actually trying to be nice to him. Too bad he wasn't a normal person with a normal life anymore. A criminal was just about the nicest thing anyone could call him. Suddenly, Lucian stopped and leaned forward, feeling nauseous. His head was spinning violently, and everything hurt. His wound wouldn't stop bleeding, but he did get the blood flow to slow down by pressing his hand over the wound. Biting his lip hard enough to draw blood, he stood back up which caused his hood to fall off. I'm...fine. Lucian repeated to himself, thinking positively might actually trick him into feeling a little better. He was never more wrong before. His house seemed miles away at that point, though it was only a half a block away. His black hair was messy, and his sky blue eyes were striking. Another feature of his was a small burn scar across his left eye, though he managed to control it before it did any real damage to his eye. The guy did fit the description of a freak, but once you get to know him he's friendly.
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Post by вlue вlood on Jan 27, 2017 14:36:14 GMT -5
( no worries!! take all the time you need c: this has only been my first week back so my workload's only gonna get heavier from here now too :0 sorry for the verryyy rambly post ahaha )
"Don't be ridiculous," Silvana huffed, tiredness blunting the sharp edge to her tone. Neither of them had time for silly stubbornness. What if someone passed by now and started asking questions? She turned as he continued past, eyes following him with one eyebrow quirked. She just watched for a moment, the last moment where she could still walk away and pretend she never even saw the guy. And, in that moment, she genuinely considered it. Almost did, in fact, turn around again and walk home. But Silvana wasn't so easily put off - though maybe she should be. I mean, it really wouldn't be her fault if she had offered help and he refused. That was his problem. However, to be argumentative was in her nature, truth be told. If he'd said he didn't want help, maybe that would be a different matter, but saying he didn't need it - that he was fine? That had to be an outright lie. The guy could barely stand on his own two feet, let alone get to wherever it was he was trying to. She'd probably be woken by sirens at whatever time in the morning when some poor passer-by found his body a block away.
That was when he stopped, and, seizing her moment, she stepped forwards to catch up to him, the small distance he had crossed a far easier feat for her. She reached him just as he straightened up again, the dark hood of which the shadows had concealed his features before falling back. It was only then that her step faltered, shuffled back. Her grey-green eyes widened as they flickered across this eerily familiar face. It was a surreal feeling, the recognition - a face she knew well from the screens and reports without even really knowing she knew it at all. There was no mistaking it, though. Messy black hair and small left-eye scarring.
Lucian Crow. Criminal. ...Fire.
For a couple of long seconds, she was silent. Impressive really, considering that Silvana usually had something to say about everything. But then, in her defence, it wasn't every day one found themselves face-to-face with somebody who media had definitively declared an infamous villain. Someone who had always snagged on her mind's thoughts ever since the first report she'd heard about it. Fire. Controlling fire. It was like nothing in this world she'd heard of before. She wasn't even sure she believed it. Controlling fire and such nonsense, it was the stuff of fiction, reserved for stories and movies, not for the real world. The real world was never so interesting, never so exciting. Did he look like a criminal? She wasn't so sure. Maybe nobody looked as deadly as they could when bleeding copiously, though.
"Or, uh, should I not call someone..." she trailed off quietly, with the smallest of awkward laughs escaping in an exhaled breath. She took the slightest step backwards, eyes finding his face again. The indignation what gone from her expression, replaced by... apprehension- but also curiosity. The pictures don't do his eyes justice, she noted to herself, before shaking her head. Focus. "Come on - my place is just there," she insisted, indicating with her head to the side alley a couple of buildings down from where he had been coming from, where the clangy metal side stairs led up to her upper-floor home. She reached a hand out to him, meaning to offer support, but stopped herself before she could make contact, hesitating, leaving it hanging in midair. She quite liked her arms as they were: present and burn-free. "I mean it. I won't call anybody, honest. Let me help? My sister was a nurse. I mean, I know that isn't much, but I know a little bit. It's better than bleeding out on the streets, right? You'd scar someone for life, and that would be, uh... bad." Silvana could hear herself starting to babble, and promptly forced herself to shut her own mouth. For all she knew, she was one short temper tantrum from being burned to death. Yet, still, curiosity won over in her mind. The naive, idealistic, romantic part of her mind that believed nobody was simply 'bad', that there was always another side to the story. The part of her that, against the logic her mind held dear, she wanted the story the city was obsessed with to be true. She wanted to believe in something more than the boring, ordinary world they were seemingly stuck with. And maybe that's exactly what Lucian Crow was.
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Post by Møиø¢ħяøмe on Jan 27, 2017 21:04:48 GMT -5
"Me? Ridiculous? Don't make me laugh." Lucian shook his head, wondering why she was still there in the first place. Everyone else was ridiculous, spewing petty lies with every word and even believing them. He was completely serious when he said he didn't need help. Not from other people anyway. Although he knew little to nothing about treating wounds, he'd rather do it himself. Turning to face her as she approached, learning the hard way not to trust anyone, he stared into her eyes. He could tell that she was beginning to recognize him, and he was tense, knowing she might scream for help or call the police at any second. That's what people usually did upon first seeing him. Panic flooded his mind and he anxiously stood there, almost like he was frozen in place. Tch, if only he wasn't injured like this. He could have been home already with nothing to worry about and food to eat. Speaking of food, he almost forgot about the duffel bag he had with him. Luckily he still had it slung over his shoulder. He wouldn't have to worry about food for a couple more days, which was a relief.
"I don't think it would benefit anyone if you called for help." He would be thrown in solitary confinement-or worse, and if he wanted to he could burn her at any time. Not like that was something he wanted to do though. He only resorted to that if he desperate. He ran his free hand through his hair, staring at her with disbelief as she offered to take him to her place like she was the one who had some crazy powers. He shook his head when she offered her hand, not really preferring to touch anyone, knowing what bad could come out of it better than anyone else. He also assumed that he would be hit as well, which didn't really help any. "I'm a monster." Lucian interrupted her as she started speaking again, pointing to his gunshot wound. "You wanna help me? I've heard that one before. Then I get stabbed in the back with the police surrounding me so they can get the stupid reward that's on my head. Heck, I don't even know what would happen if I was caught. Solitary confinement, death penalty, handed over to the government to be tested on, I don't know! I can't trust anyone anymore, not even myself. I can't even bear the things I've done to people. This world is cruel, and I can't take it anymore!" Lucian snapped at her, lifting his free arm up and smashing his fist into the glass of the shop right beside them with a flash of orange light, causing glass shards to fly everywhere as well as fire spreading in every direction for a split second. He was breathing heavily, refusing to make eye contact and staring at the ground near her feet with his hand now dripping with crimson liquid. He didn't mean to lash out like that, he just couldn't help it anymore.
"Look, I didn't mean to snap at you. I'm sorry. Just go home kid. I don't want you getting caught in any trouble." Lucian apologized for once, a cold breeze biting at his face. "Maybe it is better if I bled out." He added quietly, adrenaline rushing through his veins once more as he got worked up. Luckily he didn't set off any alarms and his fire didn't rage uncontrollably. The poor girl didn't deserve to be caught up in anything that had to do with him, and he quickly moved his hand to cover his face. He was acting exactly like his parents, which he absolutely hated to admit. It was all their fault that he turned out like this. Taking his anger out by physical means, even hurting people. Speaking of people...he moved his hand away from his face and stared at the girl with wide eyes, frantically searching for any signs of horrible burns and glass shards that had embedded itself into her. At least she was ok...but he knew he had hurt her. He didn't know what to say after that. Sorry wasn't going to cut it this time. Oh god, he felt horrible. She was never going to forgive him. Guess he really was a monster after all, hurting someone who just wanted to offer help.
"Just...finish me off. I don't want to hurt people anymore!" Lucian told her, motioning to the glass. He would rather this than be caught, not wanting to suffer any longer. He stared at the ground and moved both hands to his head, realizing how horrible he actually was.
All fire can do is destroy.
So it's...better if I'm gone.
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Post by вlue вlood on Jan 29, 2017 18:36:13 GMT -5
Wouldn't benefit anyone - was that a threat? Silvana wasn't sure. Not that it really mattered; she was turning her phone around in her hand absently, but she didn't have any intention of calling anybody. Well, not unless he gave her a real reason anyway. Okay, so a phone call wasn't really much of a help if he did mean to threaten, but she figured that if she was going to end up burned to death, it would be preferable if her killer was caught. Anyway, she wasn't going to ask to confirm, and hopefully she wouldn't have to put it to the test. Hopefully. So, they were both stuck there with unwieldy weapons neither one of them really wanted to use - but would if they thought they had to. It wasn't the most comfortable situation she'd been in, that's for sure.
Shrinking back at his snappish tone, her mind ran through the possibilities he listed. She had always figured, given his criminal status, he was a shoot-to-kill sort of target. Of course, now it occurred to her that even so, his situation was far from ordinary. Sure, the guy was dangerous. Monster. He had said so himself. But he was also unlike anything she, for one, had ever heard of before. Of course the world was curious. Maybe a quick death was not his worst fate, but a best case scenario if he were caught.
This was not the most thought-provoking part, though. From what she had gathered, Silvana had assumed that control of fire meant control of fire. His words told another story: someone not really in control of his abilities. Someone who was almost as much a victim of his power as those he had harmed. Did that mean... he wasn't really all the news and media and speculation had bigged him up to be? Not really a killer, just the source of a number of unfortunate accidents? Or did that not put enough blame on him? Her eyes narrowed in thought.
Her mind was still working through it when the movement of an arm, the sound of breaking glass, the flash of fiery orange light - she wasn't sure exactly which it was which her body reacted to automatically - made her jump back instinctively, her head turning away to protect her eyes from the bright light, sore to her eyes which had accustomed to the gloom of night. Kudos to her instincts - she mostly evaded the 'blast zone', though she had felt the heat of fire against the side of her body closest to the momentary flames, and small splinters of glass showered over her shoes, and she could feel a small, stinging cut down the side of her face which had faced the glass as she had turned away. The sting of nothing large or serious, she assured herself, although she didn't let her fingers rise to touch it. There could still be glass in it. She held the slightest wince in her eye, but otherwise ignored it, focusing instead on slowing down her breathing and willing her racing heart to slow. She had to listen over the sound of pounding blood in her ears to hear his words, and even then, it was only when her dazed eyes followed his motioning to the broken glass littering to ground and she stared for a couple of empty seconds that her brain seemed to kick back in again.
"Wh- What? Me?" her eyes widened, shaking her head first in what looked like confusion, and then in refusal. Her previously brazen tone sounder much... smaller, now. It irritated her to hear. Silvana had always thought living in this place had hardened her, but now she felt like a quivering mess. Pull yourself together. You're fine. He wasn't coming at you. "Hang on, what happened to me not getting caught up in your trouble?! Not that I'm okay with that either - I'll decide what trouble I get caught up in, thank you very much - but it that doesn't count as trouble then I don't know what does." Crossing her arms, she shook the smaller pieces of shattered glass off her shoes, feeling the crunch underfoot and she readjusted her stance. They were in more trouble if anybody heard them and thought to investigate, or call the police, thinking it was a break-in or something. What if I did, though? Would that make me a murderer? No - no way, not if he asked for it. But how would she be able to prove he did? Would people be glad if he was dead? Would it make her a hero, in the eyes of others, or did that put her on the same level as the very life she would end? Hang on- why are you thinking about this in the first place? That really is ridiculous.
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Post by Møиø¢ħяøмe on Jan 31, 2017 0:09:24 GMT -5
Lucian was out of it, not even sure what he was doing at the moment. He was just a bit frantic and tense after he had gotten shot. Anyone would be, but he had it worse, now fearing for his own life. He'd rather not die if he could help it, but it was a better option than getting caught and continuing to hurt people without meaning to. Lucian was worried about himself as well, although he didn't want to admit it. He hadn't realized it, but he had been shaking slightly. His heart rate was high and his mind was racing, and he stood there for a couple minutes to force himself to calm down enough to think. The fire that had caught onto some objects were slowly fading and finally gone as he exhaled. As the sigh escaped his lips, he let his arms fall to his side, staring up at the sky. It was a lovely night that just had to be ruined with fire and the splitting sound of a single gunshot not too long ago. He couldn't enjoy anything anymore. He rarely slept or ate, instead just saying inside all day and trying to mess with his fire until he could control it. It never worked out though. Late at night he would go out and try and steal some things he needed, though half the time it didn't work out and he was forced to leave empty-handed. He didn't wish this life upon anyone else.
"Just...forget I said anything. I'm sorry. I can't help it." He told her, his tone sincere. "Nobody knows what I've been through before this whole power thing besides me, and nobody cares to listen. It's all so stupid! I never asked for these powers!" Lucian added with a tch, a scowl on his face. He stared over at her, still expecting to be hit or...or something. It was so normal to be punished or scolded that he was just waiting for it. It made him anxious as he braced himself for something, clutching his hands a bit tighter.
One thing occurred to him though, the fact that she was still there. She hadn't called the police, and she hadn't ran. If she had really wanted to, she would have done it already. She just stood there, and he was so vulnerable that it was eerie to him. "I guess it doesn't take much for me to cause trouble. Just by existing I'm trouble." He gave a half-hearted chuckle, though it was more nervous than anything. Shifting his weight to his other leg, he flinched at the crunch of the glass. He needed to get out of there. The police would come by soon, and he didn't want to be there when they were. The poor guy barely had any energy left, but his instinct was to get the heck outta there.
"I should go. I don't want to keep you here longer." Lucian was starving, injured, and tired. Not a good combination to have. It just made him feel twenty times worse. Crouching down to pick up a shard of glass, he chucked it across the street. He kicked some glass with his foot, noticing that he had stained the ground with some blood. He hadn't passed out yet, the fear was all that was keeping him conscious. He forced himself to stay alert and keep his guard up in case anyone else happened to pass by.
He was hoping she could just leave him alone, but she seemed stubborn. For one, she was still here. Did she still want to help him? A thief, murderer, and fire wielder. Put it that way, and no wonder he was shot. Maybe she felt pity for him. A mistreated, misunderstood guy who had no control over his powers. That was the real Lucian. Not that she knew this, but maybe she could sense it. He quickly doubted himself, thinking back to his parents when they told him how everyone hated him. He was good for nothing, always alone in school with his grades dropping by the second. He eventually stopped going to school, dropping out without telling anyone. Not that anyone cared though. He didn't have any friends. Pulling his hood up and sleeves down to hide himself from the world, he glanced down, taking a step before pausing. Despite thinking all of that, if she offered help again he planned on going with it.
"Hey, before you do anything you should go home and fix yourself up." Not that she'd listen to a guy like me. Lucian shrugged to himself slightly, used to not having a say in anything. It was his fault, so he felt like he should say something. "You don't want it to get infected." He added quietly, almost mumbling it. He was worried more about her than himself, taught to put others before him. If you got to know him, he was pretty nice and protective, always thinking of others safety. Because he knew that he didn't matter at all.
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Post by вlue вlood on Jan 31, 2017 15:02:51 GMT -5
It wasn't really pity that Silvana felt. It was hard to feel pity for someone who was public enemy number one in this city, and that stood, even if she was silently piecing together a jigsaw between what she had already heard about the guy and what he was telling her now. Maybe he was just a guy given a power he couldn't control; maybe, as he said, he never had meant to hurt anyone, and his destruction had never been wholly intentional. On the other hand, what if he was feeding her lies, afraid that she could call anyone or scream out here and now, and he was telling her whatever might work to stop that? He did look pretty desperate, and Silvana was too sensible, too logical and too wary to disregard it as a possibility.
That being said, she still wanted to help, if admittedly for not entirely altruistic reasons. Indeed, he was a person who needed help, and she was here, believing she had help to offer. But she was dominated by a curious mindset, and the thought of just letting him go, or of her simply turning around and pretending they'd never crossed paths... it killed her inside just a little bit.
"This is nothing. You wanna talk about infection? You've got a gunshot wound. I think that takes the cake for risk of infection," she replied matter-of-factly, her gaze bearing into him stubbornly. She was becoming acutely aware that the longer they were standing here, the more blood he was losing - and the more likely it was that the police or anyone could show up at any moment. If he really was going to refuse any sort of help, she should just let him on his way, she supposed. Where would he even be going, anyway? Not to a hospital or anything of that sort, it was safe to assume, so presumably he was heading wherever it was that was home to him in this city. Even if it was somewhere fairly close, Silvana wouldn't want to bet money on him making it there, and even if he did, the prospect of trying to fix up a gunshot wound on your own body, by yourself, did not sound easy.
"Hold on; you said.. before? You mean you haven't always had your... powers, or...?" she trailed off questioningly, frowning in thought, but she jumped in again before even giving him the chance to answer. "Look, come on, someone could turn up here before either of us would have a chance to get away," she added, anxiousness seeping into her usually confident voice. "You can hold my phone, even, if you don't trust me not to call anyone. I wouldn't blame you. Let's just get out of here. No offence, but you don't look like you'll make it another ten steps," she huffed. She got it - of course he was mistrustful - but if she was going to call anyone, wouldn't she have done it already? In a softer voice, she added, "I'm just... curious, okay? And I want to help. You can leave whenever you want and nobody'll ever know, and I'll never tell anybody either." If he truly never meant to hurt anyone, he didn't deserve to die, and bleeding out on the streets or being caught by the police were not easy deaths either. Silvana didn't know what she believed yet, but she was willing to believe in something better than the criminal image the news and stories had painted. The glint in her eyes dared him to argue. Her own stubbornness couldn't be counted on not to drag her into trouble even if he was trying to keep her out of it.
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