Jamie Sheppard | National Security (absolutecontrol) wrote in forgotten_gods, @ 2009-08-26 21:12:00 |
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Current mood: | angry |
Entry tags: | ares, national security |
Who: National Security (absolutecontrol) & Ares (ares_godofwar)
What: Jamie borrows Ares' bathroom.
Where: Ares' penthouse.
When: Backdated to last Thursday night after this.
Warnings: There's some blood but nothing gory.
He'd been fine. After his strange little freak-out over the baby, he'd been doing well; re-established routine, taken care of daily business, made sure everything ran smoothly while at the same time staying alert to potential threats. Outside threats. Big mistake.
When was the last time somebody had caught National Security off-guard and got close enough to carve him up like this? Several lifetimes ago probably. Nobody was crazy or stupid enough to try these days - except for that lunatic Horseman apparently. Female Horseman. Did Riders of the Apocalypse go through 'that time of the month' as well? It was hard to believe but the car park incident was solid proof, wasn't it? And there were other goddesses who'd displayed strange behaviour at regular intervals.
Women.
Jamie hadn't called to announce his visit nor did he knock. He didn't know if Ares was in or if he had company - was too furious to give a frak. Simply entered the Greek's home and headed straight for the bathroom. This wouldn't take long. All he wanted was to clean himself up and borrow a shirt that was not torn and soaked in blood.
"Borrowing your bathroom for a bit," he called out just in case Ares was home. Getting into a fight with another war-god was not something he was too keen on tonight.
Standing in front of the sink, National Security took off his jacket, tugged off his tie and stared at his reflection. Split lip, bruise on his cheek, traces of caked blood on his chin, his throat, his shirt collar. He'd managed to repair some of the internal damage but his mind hadn't really been on it since it had been too busy coming up with 101 ways to neutralise War forever. The stab wounds hadn't stopped bleeding, he noticed, as he got rid of his shirt. Not as profusely as before but sticky, crimson liquid was still gushing out.
Jamie studied the red rivulets in the mirror, his gaze fixating on the two injuries in his side. A mortal would be dead. Gritting his teeth, he filled the sink with warm water and rummaged through the cabinets for disinfectant and bandages because he doubted he'd be able to calm down enough to fix himself right now.
Besides, Enola would probably kill him if he came home, bleeding all over the place.