Harry Ryan has two first names (sybarite) wrote in rooms,
Re: [Gwen & Harry: Gotham]
[Harry couldn't see her, it was too dark for any of that. Around them the air was thick with particles of dust and grit and who knows what. A little more focused, and he might have worried about asbestos, but as it was, Harry just cringed at the taste of metal and dirt in the back of his throat. He coughed, and he covered his mouth with the his shirt sleeve. A few minutes later, when Gwen was closer, Harry found that the sediments of the explosion were already settling in their little cave of destruction. It was a bit easier to breathe, although he knew better than to take in great, greedy inhales. He'd seen that one documentary about coal miners in cave-ins, and they always preached about keeping calm to reserve the oxygen. In moments like these, that kind of thing was a lot easier said than done, but Harry found that it was just a bit easier when he fully realized that Gwen was here with him, and she was okay. Or as okay as could be hoped for, which in this moment really just meant alive and talking.
Her voice was like auditory shadow, warbled and echoing and he couldn't tell where she was until she was just there. Harry blinked up, he wiped at his eyes with the arm he was able to move. He realized that he could actually see her a bit, even with the dark. A result of the serum, probably. Her form was an outline, but he couldn't tell how hurt she was. He thought that he voice sounded pained.]
What grave? [Confused, he reached for her, brushed her with his fingers in order to reaffirm that she was where he thought she was.]