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Tweak says, "I can change that."

Patrick is (elfen) wrote in repose,
@ 2016-01-22 20:38:00

Entry tags:

*log, cat dubrovna, matt devlin, muerte graves

[Treating Em: Cat, Matt, Em]
[Cat had never been to Em's place in the woods, but that? Was unimportant. She'd figure that out. The important thing? Was the fact that Em had been in pain for nearly a month now. She wasn't sure how far Emily's humanity extended, and she wasn't sure if Emily was the type of woman who was prone to exaggeration. All she knew? Was that a month for a burn to heal? Was much too much. And the fact that Em didn't even seem to know what an infection was? That didn't help Cat feel any better about things.

And she trusted Matt, which helped. Oh, she didn't trust him not to kill someone at the drop of a hat, and she didn't trust him to be a harmless lapdog in need of a hug - unlike Grant - but she trusted him not to say anything if Em sprouted inky black wings during a medical examine, and wasn't that something? Matt was a man of secrets, and Cat knew a tiny bit about those, so at least she wasn't worried about bringing Matt into Em's world. Em wasn't a Russian spy, and there was nothing to worry about.

So, jeans and a black sweater, a peacoat in shiny leather, boots and a beanie over her riot of curls, Cat found herself at the entrance to the caves. Black gloves on her fingers, and only idle curiosity about what was happening underground. There had been enough obsessive curiosity in her New Jersey days about underground caves. These days? She would prefer to stay above ground, thank you very much. She shifted from one foot to the other, ready to get moving, seeing as she was having unfortunate thoughts about Emily's hand rotting off. Cat? She wasn't particularly interested in playing nurse. And the quicker Matt got to his patient? The better.]

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log: cat, matt, emily

propatria
2016-01-23 06:20 am UTC (link)

[Matt didn't know who he was being enlisted to treat, but it said a lot that he was willing to meet Cat without more information about their destination. Protocol itched at him to get full details from her, the when, why, and how of her friend and where she lived. He didn't ask, and that meant he had decided Cat was not a person he had to ask to be sure of the outcome. In other words, she'd earned a scrap of trust. He didn't know why. Some past association, now forgotten, said that she wouldn't turn on him, despite every bit of evidence pointing to the contrary.

Burns didn't take a month to heal unless they required skin grafts, something Matt wasn't equipped to do. But he needed to see the injury first. He'd treated burns on animals, and one or two on people, but nothing as Cat was describing. He'd seen burns that deep, though. Bone-deep burns brought up the smell of charred flesh, and the black/white flare of explosives.

Halfway through the woods, a pack over his shoulder, he stopped long enough to pull back from that memory. It was a minute or two before he'd put it safely somewhere out of reach.

He wore a thick green coat and work boots that had seen better days, and when he arrived at the cave mouth, he came around the edge with a deliberate step. No sign of a tail, no sign of backup, no sign of a trap.

And there she was, in front of that lazily yawning gap.

There was a saying about that feeling, in English, when someone touched part of you that was dead. He couldn't call it up, looking at her. Nothing English came to mind, staring at those dark eyes, stock still at the cave edge. His arm felt heavier than usual. He hadn't seen her since the bar. Since target practice and no, he wasn't going down that hole again. There was a girl with a burn. She needed help.]

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Re: log: cat, matt, emily

elfen
2016-01-23 07:56 am UTC (link)

Привет

[She was deliberately informal, the contrast to his very formal greeting intentional. After all, they hadn't just met, had they? Alright, so the details were spotty, most of them slipped through chemical holes that Cat hadn't found a way to plug yet. But she knew they hadn't just met, and she so did hate pretense when it wasn't convenient to her.

Anyway, if their acquaintance was casual - if she thought for a second that their acquaintance was casual? He wouldn't be here, because she wouldn't trust him with Em's secrets. Not that she understood most of Em's secrets herself, but that was neither here nor there. This man was too busy hiding from the world, and someone who did that? Wasn't going to run to the police or government with tales of halos and inky wings.

And she didn't expect him to show with a tail or backup, and she considered herself a very good judge of character. It was at the heart of being a good con, being able to anticipate people's actions, being able to read them. And she might be out of practice? But she was still a very good con.

She walked toward him, motioned in the direction of the old house in the woods, the one she'd never been to, but that she knew Em called home, and she moved, expecting him to fall into step beside her.] This way. It's not far.