40 shots fired.

[blue_satin_pjs]

Sorry I ain't been around the Network today. Got my own troubles to tend to. And blood all over. Near as I can see, this's a curse goin' down, and a fierce one. Just to remind us that they ain't all so nice as havin' pets of our souls, maybe.

Everyone all right? Need any If you I can

I can't really do nothin' to stop no part of this thing, can I?

Comments

//last night//

[blue_satin_pjs]

[Midnight strikes, and with it the day's curse. It's as simple as that.

Omar doesn't wake up immediately. He's used to waking up at loud noises, to be sure, but this is something rather different. It's a good ten or fifteen minutes later that he starts to shift in his sleep, and that's when the pain and the dripping blood get through to him.

He's still for a long moment, his eyes wide, blood soaking into the pillow and the sheets around his chest, as he tries to figure out just what's happening.

Then he slips out of bed--as quietly as possible; he doesn't see any need to disturb Zev as well--and heads for the bathroom, one hand pressed up against his face.

He'll deal with the wounds of twenty years of crime and four months in the City there.]

//last night//

[kosherplz]

[Zev stayed asleep for a few minutes after Omar quietly fled to the bathroom. But then he rolled over his sleep and instead of a warm solid body he was greeted with the sensation of cooled blood soaked into the sheets. That would wake anyone up.

He wakes up quickly with that stimulus and stares at the bloodstain on his sheets for a good minute before his brain actually kicks in. Then he's out of the bed pretty damn quickly.]

Omar.

[He goes to the bathroom and knocks on the door in warning before opening the door.]

What in god's name is going... on?

[And hello blood covered boyfriend. This is Zev staring at you.]

//last night//

[blue_satin_pjs]

[Yeah, it doesn't exactly take a genius to figure out where Omar is in the apartment, considering the trail of blood he left behind him.

He's leaning against the sink now, a wet towel pressed against his face, blood rapidly soaking through it. Several more wounds have opened up on his chest--the big slash and the gunshot scar from before the City, plus the shallower, barely-scarring scratches from shortly after his arrival and the gunshot wound from his encounter with Loki. The blood from those is starting to soak through his boxers and trickle to the floor.

When he speaks, his voice is a strained mix of professional calm and startled pain.]

Some kind of curse, ain't it?

Sorry 'bout your things. Ain't gonna be easy cleanin' up the blood.

//last night//

[kosherplz]

You- [Shakes his head, quickly slipping into the role of being the calm one who can handle trouble. it was what carried him through Caufield House and the demonic invasion. He can handle this. Hopefully.]

Don't apologize. I can just buy some new things.

[A few swift steps and he's grabbing the first aid kit from under the sink and pulling out quite possibly the largest roll of gauze ever seen outside a hospital. He stocked up after the mini-cthulu attack.]

It has to be a curse.

[ohrosalita]

Your own troubles?

[blue_satin_pjs]

...well, I am cursed.

[ohrosalita]

Right. That was my less than direct way of asking how bad.

[blue_satin_pjs]

Not so bad I can't deal with it.

Cleanin' up the blood on Zev's things gonna be more trouble, I think.

[therippling]

Worried?

[blue_satin_pjs]

Just makin' sure all my people all right.

[therippling]

How kind.

[blue_satin_pjs]

Not kind. Just right.