pullmeoutalive | RO > call me out; a forever open RP post, version 2

Do all thieves have code names or is that just you?

Not always. Some merely maintain their given names, but when I left home, I was adamant, perhaps childishly so, about leaving behind everything my parents gave me -- name included. If it were up to me, I'd be just as happy without a code name, but I suppose I'm just that special.

[ Another step forward, and he rights the chair that was knocked over, after Charie threw him into the bulkhead. ]

The man in your apartment. [ He pauses, apparently hesitant. ] Was he trying to return you home?

[ Charlie falls quiet again, glancing down at the bandages that adorn his chest and torso. ]

He was there to kill me.

[ Myriad takes a breath, as if in surprise. ]

... I'm sorry.

[ His voice is softened, approaching gentle. He hesitates again, looking as though he'd like to ask more, but he shakes his head. ]

We don't have to discuss it, if you prefer. You ought to be resting, as it is.

I-- can I ask why you left?

[ He's quiet for a long moment, fingers rapping lightly against the chair. ]

My parents and I clashed on many things. [ The words are said slowly, carefully. ] My career. My future. My lifestyle. My--

[ Myriad pauses, brow furrowing. He decides at last on-- ]

-- interests. Eventually I saw no other recourse than to leave it all behind me.

[ He wants to ask more, to find out just what was the breaking point, but Charlie’s not sure if he could handle coming this close to a kindred spirit only to part ways again. ]

Same. [ He lays back down, draping an arm over his eyes, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. ] Apparently someone out there thinks I don’t deserve to live my life the way I want to.

[ Myriad draws his mouth into a thin, solemn line, sympathetic and concerned. He's silent for a long moment, as though arguing whether or not to press, keep probing for answers, but eventually he shakes his head, resigned. He did, after all, say he would not ask about Charlie's circumstances.

His gaze falls to the floor briefly. ]

For what it's worth -- and it may be worth very little, coming from a complete stranger and career criminal -- I think it's quite brave of you to strike out on your own. Even more so, since fortune seems determined to make it difficult for you.

[ For a second or two, Charlie doesn't know what to say. He didn't expect to find kindness in this situation, and he looks at Myriad like a deer in the headlights for a beat, before offering a quiet, ] Thank you.

[ He shakes his head in answer, as if to say, No need for that. ]

Get some rest. I'll have the healer come to us once we've docked. She'll likely agree with me that you shouldn't move around too much with those injuries.

[ There's another thank you on his lips- he feels like he can't say it enough- but instead he nods. ]

And once she heals me... then what?

[ He pauses as he's turning to leave the room, looking back at Charlie. ]

Well, that's entirely up to you. [ His head tilts, a small, rueful smile playing at his lips. ] I assume we'll part ways.

[ Another pause, and he nods to a corner of the room, where a bag sits. ]

Forgive my presumption, but I took the liberty of gathering some of your things when we left. The scene in your apartment was... unsettling. I didn't expect you would want to return.

[ His eyes slide over to where the bag sits, and he presses his mouth into a thin line ] You were right. I don't want to go back there.

[ He nods once, slowly. ]

I apologize further if I neglected to pack something of yours. It was a bit of a mad dash to get you here.

It's okay, really. I... I owe you. Thanks.

Think nothing of it. It's a stroke of luck that I happened to be in the right place at the right time.

[ His gaze flicks up to Charlie, catching his eye, before it darts away, almost shyly. ]

I'm glad to help you in any way I can. When I was in your place, I recall how even the most modest offers of assistance were a balm to how difficult and impossible it felt leaving behind everything I knew.

I mean it. I'd probably be dead if you hadn't come by.

[ He bows his head. ]

As I said, I'm glad to help. I only wish we could have met under better circumstances.

Now, then. Try to rest. We've some time yet before we land. If you need anything, just shout.

[ He gives another nod and curls up to sleep. It's weird. He should be more wary. He should be more rattled. But no, he sleeps deeply and thankfully without dreams as exhaustion and blood loss gets the better of him. ]

[ charlie no make better life choices.

Myriad smiles as he passes by, now and again, checking in on his guest while his doubles attend to the ship. He's thankful their conversation went as smoothly as it did, despite the hiccup at the beginning, when Charlie had used his powers on him. To be expected, in retrospect, given the recent shock of his attack and his "kidnapping," as he had put it. Myriad should have done more to calm him down from the start, he thinks, but their current standing was comfortable, at the very least.

The former Maxwell heir is more handsome in person than in his photos, he thinks, even with his hair slightly tousled and skin ashen from blood loss. That he had an easy command of his abilities is another point in his favor, Myriad muses. Charlie is becoming more and more interesting by the second. He should prove to be an amusing divertissement for the time being.

Hours and hours pass as his ship races to their destination, and at least three-quarters of a standard day has passed by the time they arrive at last at their destination. True to his word, Myriad contacts the healer to meet them at the docks. She arrives shortly with a suitcase and a worried expression.

She waits at the entrance to Charlie's room, milky white eyes sweeping over her patient's sleeping form, while Myriad leans down, placing a hand on the Mover's shoulder to wake him. ]

Charlie. The healer is here.

[ Waking up goes a bit more smoothly for Charlie this time around, though he does have a brief moment where the unfamiliar ceiling jars him. Once he spots Myriad, the pieces fall back into place. ]

How long was I out?

The better part of a day. You needed the rest.

[ Blade brushes past Myriad, waving him off with a flick of her wrist. Luckily, he seems more amused than offended, taking her place at the doorway. She deposits her case on the chair, sitting on the edge of the bed. ]

I'm told you had a trying night. [ Straight to business, it seems, though her voice is soft. Sympathetic. She reaches to undo the bandages covering Charlie's chest. Despite the sharp tips of her fingers, her touch is gentle, but quick and efficient with practice. She pauses when she reaches a layer of bandaging touching the wounds. ]

Are these bedsheets? [ She throws it over her shoulder to Myriad, who shrugs almost sheepishly, replying, "I had to improvise." She tuts in response, clearly disapproving, but she carefully peels the spent sheets away. ]

Shallow, but a relatively clean cut. [ She murmurs it, as if to herself, while her hand hovers over the wound, glowing a soft white. Her hand moves to the stab wound at Charlie's side, and she frowns deeply. ] Puncture wound. Assailant managed to miss anything vital, but likely would have resulted in fatal blood loss without treatment.

[ She glances up to Charlie, her smile kind, and her gaze grows distant as she covers the stab wound with both hands. ] Try to relax, sweetheart.

[ Charlie finds something unsettling about the woman, but considering she’s here to help him, he keeps those thoughts to himself. He does as he’s asked and tries his best to relax, though he’s somewhat fascinated as well. There are no natural-born healers in his home system, and this is the first time he’s seen such abilities at work. ]

Thank you. For coming out to help me like this.

[ She smiles indulgently, and her touch is an inexplicable mixture of cold and hot at once as her abilities knit together the injured tissue. ]

Of course, my dear. I never turn a patient away, and Myriad was quite worried for you.

[ Charlie’s eyes flick past the woman to where Myriad stands, and he wonders just how it is a stranger could worry about him like this. Maybe Myriad sees himself in Charlie? It would make sense, considering they’re both escapees from the same system.

But soon enough, his gaze is drawn back to where the healer mends his wound. He can’t quite decide if he likes the sensation or not. ]

I’ve never seen a healer at work before.

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