Repose

[Locked to Con T]
You may stay at the manor, if you wish. I will be staying elsewhere. The facial recognition software on the gate will allow you entrance, as it has you logged. You must enter a code as well. [He gives it.]

Who: Cat & Jack & Matt
What: A group narrative of triage
Where: The Capital, some clinic
When: Immediately after this
Warnings/Rating: I for Injury. B for Blood.

Cat wasn't conscious.

The knife to the gut had nicked the aorta, and it was just luck that the nick was small. Another millimeter? And she would've been dead there, where she'd fallen at Jack's feet in soaked wine that left her fishnets dripping fat droplets of blood on the filthy floor of the undercity. As it was, she was pale as summer-bleached sheets against that dark and filthy ground, blood trickling without stop.

She was entirely unaware of anything that happened beyond that fall. She was unaware that Jack had called Matt, that she'd been moved, that Matt had arrived. She was unaware of all of it.

The amount of blood lost was impressive, and she wouldn't be walking away from this without a transfusion from somewhere. No pressure, heroes. She didn't make a sound. She didn't so much as shift throughout the process. She was dead weight and doll's limbs hanging heavily. Legs akimbo and breath shallow, skin cold, pressure low and heartbeat quiet and growing quieter. Beat..... beat... bea...t.

Who: Connor and Cisco
What: Getting sniffed by the alpha.
Where: The woods.

( The cave mouth in the woods gaped wide, the opening strung with fallen branches and mosses. )