better learn about your fate

[goryteller]

WHO: Katurian, Gamzee and then DICK GRAYSON TO THE RESCUE. In order of appearance.
WHERE: A few blocks away from the MAC.
WHEN: April 11th, monday, around 11pm.
WARNINGS: Violence.
SUMMARY: Gamzee is still honest to goodness pissed that Katurian told him to be polite.
FORMAT: Quicklog.

[He earns the job the same day as his interview. The bookstore is quiet and perfect and he falls in love with it the second his feet cross the threshold, under the stained glass sun-catchers, the sparkling glass stars. On his first day, he stays long after closing, huddled between the aisles so that no one sees him and asks if it's still open. This is perfection as he knows it. This is the world he never thought he'd see again.

He reads. He murmurs sentences into the bookcases and pretends that he has an audience, grand and sweeping, and then he pretends that he's alone with his brother and that his stories never travel beyond their ears. Never grace the thoughts of strangers. Somehow - in some grief-stricken way he can't even try to understand - it's a comfort. Somehow, it isn't meaningless.

He doesn't think about Doctor Einstürzen. He doesn't think about his first meeting with Nygma, looming on Thursday. He doesn't think about his birthday tomorrow because he has long decided to stop counting the years. He thinks about the musical. The smooth pages between his fingers.

When he gets out, it's late but not so late that he hasn't lost his energy. When he reaches the MAC, he wanders around the block instead and heads down one of the side streets. He kicks pebbles into the curb. The bottom of his shoe makes sandpaper sounds against the concrete.]

Comments

[caprihorn]

Motherfucker!

[His scythe flies out of reach and slides for a few feet on the ground. There's no way Gamzee's getting that back easily and the snarl on Gamzee's face shows he knows that.

Backing up just the slightest bit he pulls out another weapon, a whip this time. Immediately he lashes out at Dick, hoping to tear into whatever he can get of him. It may not be smart, but Gamzee's not about to back off until he knows his enemy is more powerful than he can handle.

Besides he's just gotten Katurian to start saying something that doesn't sound like an insult or a cry for help, he doesn't want to lose this.]

[goryteller]

[Breathing into the pavement, Katurian feels for the wound on his leg in clumsy, broad grasps. He's aware of a reprieve, a distraction, but he hasn't yet ruled out his own slow, agonizing death. It's a pessimism not even his therapy could beat out of him, and how can he blame himself? He earns strength and the City crushes it. Again. And again.

He feels the warm, sticky blood long before the actual cut. Run. Run. But his muscles scream and collapse every time he tries to gain his footing. His thoughts run in panicking, dizzying circles. It's only when he considers that maybe he'll need to start dragging himself that he glances behind him to try to figure out what's going on.]

[batmantled.livejournal.com]

[So much for smashing that four-second record. He twists far enough to miss the bulk of the snap, but he can't quite move fast enough to avoid catching the end of of it on his gauntlet. The sting is sharp even through the Kevlar, but it's not like he hasn't had practice. He dives up and over, and aims another hard kick towards his mid-section.]

Give it up.

[caprihorn]

[Now instead of a weapon it's Gamzee who's flying back a few feet. After he hits the ground and rolls he begins to realize that's there's just simply no good way to fight someone like this while he's already injured.

It's a bit difficult for him to get up again, but he manages it all the same and he doesn't even seem to be in pain. Still though, he knows he needs to give up this fight and once he's up Gamzee's moving to run off. He's not turn his back on either of them, but he's still making a lot of distance and he'll be gone in seconds.

Of course he can't leave in those seconds silently.]

_{Motherfucker, I'll make a wicked punch line up out of you later.}

[goryteller]

[Katurian lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, and the breath becomes laugh, exhausted and somewhat hysterical. Oh, he's been saved. Oh, he didn't think that was possible anymore. He rests his forehead against the ground and breathes.]

[batmantled.livejournal.com]

[Saving a bleeding victim always shakes out over chasing down the bad guy. Still, it needles a bit to watch this one disappear. But it's not as if he'll forget a face that distinctive.

He slides his batarang back into place and kneels down next the man instead. He'll check for vitals and then call an ambulance if it's necessary.]

Hey. Can you tell me your name?

[goryteller]

[From his cool, clammy skin and shallow breeding, there's a pretty good chance that an ambulance will need to be called after all. He tries to push himself up on his hands but fails, wincing as another surge of pain claws up his leg.]

K-Katurian Katurian. First name same as the last. My parents were--

[He gives another laugh, weak and breathless.]

Kind of psychotic.

[batmantled.livejournal.com]

We get that a lot. You'd be surprised.

[He tries a smile, hoping Katurian will pick up on the mood and start to relax. He definitely in need of something more than a quick pressure bandage on a sidewalk. He opens the med kit and takes one out anyway, looking for the most visible, fast-bleeding injury.]

I'm gonna call an ambulance, okay? You're gonna be fine.

[goryteller]

[His leg has it the worst. He's felt the wound, the blood but he hasn't been able to look at it yet. The way his stomach is turning, he thinks it's better if he doesn't. At Dick's words, he nods. Swallows. He isn't surprised.]

Y-Yours?

[Are your parents psychotic? It's unthinking and rude and something he'd never ask if his thoughts weren't spinning with blood less. But he returns it as easily as a 'how are you?']

[batmantled.livejournal.com]

[It's not a malicious question. Just the kind people everywhere tend to ask when they're high on blood loss and adrenaline. But all at once his hands freeze up where they are, pressing on the bandage. For one, two, three critical seconds.]

...No. They, uh. [He moves again, then reaches underneath to rewrap and put on the pressure. God, what is he saying.]

They were good. They took care of me.

[goryteller]

Yeah? [He laughs thinly, letting his head sag to the side. Every so often, the pain is more immediate, more pressing, and he squeezes his eyes shut. He doesn't notice Dick's hesitation. Not like this.] That's good. That's how it's supposed to be.