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8/18/2003

01:23 AM

Logfile from Chase.

 

 

The East River Docks

The farther east you go in this part of New York City, the darker it seems to get. Shadows cast by the Brooklyn Bridge and the raised parkway, the F.D.R. Drive, seem to keep this area in constant shade and perpetual semi-darkness. The air is somewhat cooler here as well, nearer to the waterfront. Apart from the South Street Seaport, which is located slightly north of this location, the area is mostly deserted by the tourist trade. Only hardened New Yorkers come here - the ones that can fend for themselves.

Dirt and grime are the keywords as they blanket every dark corner. The smell of fish permeates the air as a number of old werehouses, each probably garnering at least ten different building code violations, line the shores of the river. With so many places to hide and lurk, the dredges of New York consider this a haven.

Hikitsu is here.

Obvious exits:

Bowery St. (WE)   The Mended Drum   Abandoned Warehouse

 

Apparently being a cop gives you a good excuse to be in some of the worse parts of town. Brice is leaving the Mended Drum after a fact-finding session for one of their stranger cases on their desks at the moment - something involving mummies made of white duct tape or something like that. Nothing normal ever comes to their department. He pretty much blends in with the surroundings in beat-up clothes of muted colors and scuffed up blue-jeans - his normal apparel when he's gotta work the docks.

 

Seeing as Brice is a seishi, describing something as 'normal' most people might just find astonishing. And tonight is definitely not going to be an exception to that. Call it karma. Call it to seishi calling seishi. Call it the fact that Chase tends to roam this area of town. Call it anything you want. *SMASH* From across the street, the windows in the top floor of the warehouse there suddenly explode open, a body flying out. A stiff body. Really, its a mannequin, but it sure does look real. And it works really good in breaking windows. A moment later and Chase is climbing out the second story window, only to clutch to the frame as he realizes just how far it is to the ground. "Shi-" *Bang-Bang-Bang-Bang*

 

Being a cop also gives you an excuse to swear. And a gun to shoot. Brice does both - well, he swears loudly at the glass smashing, flinging up his arms to cover his head from flying shards, then yanking the gun out - it's become a conditioned reflex. And it's a good idea to keep on your toes in this part of town. "Oh shit!" Yep, he's seen the "body" go flying and he's immediately running to it - reaching it just as it crashes into the street. He swears again at the stiffness and the painted expression, looking up to see if he can see /why/ it got chucked out a window - and finds another nasty surprise. "CHASE!" Of course it's the otouto, who else would do this? Wait, don't answer that. Brice immediately runs over, sticking the gun in the waist of his jeans, yelling very loudly. "JUMP!" He's Mister Hard to Hurt, Chase falling on him won't kill him. Might not even bruise him.

 

Chase is immediately ducking down as a volley of bullets slam through the air where he was just standing. Of course, ducking down when standing in a window doesn't really bode well for balance, and a hand is wildly grabbing out to try to grip the frame. Already, he is looking about for one of those drainpipes to shimmy down. You know, like what you see in the movies, only to have it break away from the side of the building, and then the hero falls in a tree or trash bin or something. Too bad there is an absence of all three. He catches sight of Brice though and bellows. "Jump?! Are you crazy?" More shots ring out and the boy cringes, a foot slipping and down he goes, only to grab ahold of the bottom edge of the window before actually falling. Huh. Maybe he should have just jumped.

 

Bullets. Damn. Right at the otouto's head, too. Shit Chase, what've you gotten yourself into /this/ time?! Brice is gonna have to get you out AGAIN! "NO I'M NOT!" He's still holding his arms up to catch the smaller boy, but his fingers are itching to go for that gun and burst up the stairs. Fortunately he's sane, unlike the younger brother, and he knows that's a good way to get himself shot. Ash would be most displeased with him if that happened. But still, the cop instincts are yelling out to stop the bullets, so... "How many of them are there?!" If there's only a couple he'll go up when Chase finally freakin' takes the hint to jump. Or more likely he'll wait outside the door and wait for the guys to come out so's he can hide and hit 'em on the head or something. Much more effective.

 

Chase would be saying something along the lines of 'its not my fault!' if he wasn't so durn busy trying to keep ahold of the window frame instead of plummeting to his death -or even into Brice's arms, which might even be worse. Can you imagine the story: Yeah! I jumped right out of the window and into Hikitsu's embrace! Ah well. If that is how things are going to be... But there is a jabber of voices, Jamaican-lilted. "Too many?!" he responds though, because there honestly were too many. He tries to get a better grip on the window, only to feel the bite of glass into his hand. Ow. Instantly he is letting go, and only now realizing his mistake. Down he does. *woosh*

 

Now this one Brice isn't going to blame on Chase. After all, he doesn't think the otouto's stupid enough to /ask/ people to shoot at him for the adrenaline rush - especially not as he's /running away from it/. "HOW many?!" He's gotta stop this, but maybe it'd be a better idea to use the powers for this. If he conceals himself in the shadows... Dude, it'd be like the Phantom or something! 'Who knows? The Shadow knows!' Okay, away from that. But Brice does have the gun, as he took Chase's - he's not sure how many the boy has, though. "Oh shi-" Falling otouto. Brice dives, and is knocked to the ground by the catch, though he's not winded. Just a bit squashed. But at least Chase isn't dangling from that damn window ledge anymore.

 

"Oooof" Chase gasps as the wind is knocked out of him as well. Hey, but the fall down had its moments, even if the impact from hitting Brice kinda sucked. Wait. Brice? "Brice?!" Yeah, you /are/ sitting on him. He tries to scramble back to his feet though. "You don't exactly make the best of cushions." Duh. But as he scrambles up, hand reaches down to try to tug Brice up as well. Is that a snicker? "We might want to mov-" *Bang-Bang-Bang*

 

Yeah, there's an echoing 'oof' from Brice, then he's pushing Chase off at the same time the otouto's scrambling to his feet, then he's standing quickly as well, accepting Chase's hand. And look, he's not hurt! And he's already got his breath back! "Better me than someone who can be hurt like that." And then oh damn here's the gunshots. Even though he's hard to hurt he still doesn't like getting shot, and those idiots are firing out the window now. Wonderful. He grabs his own gun and *blamblamblam* back, hopefully to get them away from the window long enough for the brothers to tear off across the street. Damnit, Brice's really gotta start carrying a radio to call for backup in these situations. "What in the hell HAPPENED?!"

 

Chase ducks his head as the street is literally rained on with gunfire, wincing as he waits for the feel of one of those bullets slamming into his body. Amazingly enough though, it doesn't happen. He peeps back up to the second floor window, spotting a pair of dark men, both with the proverbial dreadlocks. He is quickly scooting after Brice as the pair above reload, throwing down barely understood curses. "It is sorta a long story," he manages, ducking behind a parked car. He reaches back to grab his own gun at the small of his back, only to realize it isn't there. "Dammit. Forgot they took it." Next time, must remember to grab the gun before attempting a window escape.

 

"NO SHIT SHERLOCK!" When is /anything/ a short story with Chase? Never, his mind tells him, as he turns once again to fire while the pair at the window reload. There's a cry of pain from above, and he's off and running - he's really gotta practice running and shooting at the same time. Such a nice skill. There also comes a roar of rage, and a barrage of bullets as if someone's just holding down the trigger and sweeping the firearm around the area - and Brice yells, staggering as his left hand rushes up to cover a hole on his right arm that's starting to ooze blood. Not a good situation, not at all.

 

Chase winces at Brice's bellowing. Granted, he is actually rather pleased that he is around for this, but he could still do without the forthcoming lecture. Ah well. He'll deal with it when the time comes. He peeps over the hood of the car, and then starts bellowing at the ones that were shooting to give him his gun back or they are 'gonna get it'. Uh-huh. Of course, that would be about the time of that newest barrage. He curses and then curses some more, "Gimme your gun. I'll show them-" Oh look. Blood. Granted, he sliced open his palm on that glass, but he is fairly sure he didn't leave that much on the aniki. Especially as it is running down the other's arm. "Hikitsu?"

 

Yeah, all the Chase-blood is in some scattered drops on Brice's left shoulder. The left shoulder - not the right arm. Yeah, Ash won't be pleased. Brice gives a sort of roar of pain, finally stumbling behind the car where Chase is, collapsing against it and tossing over the gun. "You've gotta cover us now, I can't shoot." Yeah, he's clenching his teeth in pain. The pain isn't as bad as it would be for Chase or any of the other seishi, but getting shot still hurts, damnit! He could shoot, if he had to - but Chase is there and knows how to handle a firearm better than he can, so it's not exactly a loss. "Gotta get to a hospital. Quick." he's also short a hand for tearing up his shirt for bandage. Yuck.

 

Chase's eyes fly open at the sight of the other's arm. And, suddenly, that faint grin is gone. Wow, this isn't quite as exciting as before. "Pack it with cold," he advises while taking the gun in his uncut palm. Doesn't matter which hand, the kid is fairly ambidextrous. He doesn't even wait for the next volley of fire to stop before coming around the trunk of the car, and with cool efficiency, aim and fire that gun at each figure in the window. Three consecutive shots, a brief pause, and then a fourth. After that, everything is eerily quiet, except for the odd tinkle of glass slipping free of any other broken windows.

 

Again, no shit Sherlock. 'It's always fun until someone loses an eye.' Or get a hole in their arm in this case. Yeah, Brice isn't having a whole lot of fun right now. But he'd rather it be him that gets shot than Chase. Protective instincts kicking in overtime. He nods at the advice and uses his good hand to draw the dagger hanging under his shirt, then brings the collar of his shirt to his mouth to hold with his teeth while he cuts a section out of the fabric. Once that's done and the dagger's back in place, he closes his eye, a dull green beginning to shine around the patch, and the fabric in his hands quickly freezes. Brice immediately presses it to the wound, noting the eerie silence, then carefully looks. Nothing. "Come on, let's go /now/." He's sure not waiting around, trotting off and making sure to stay hidden as best he can.

 

Mom always told Chase that too. That whole 'eye' thing, funny how he would always flashback to some one-eyed long-haired guy back in his youth. Fairly understandable now. Chase tucks the gun into his pants at the small of his back before moving back over to Brice. "Lee around? Got a car?" he asks, shooting a glance at the other's arm and trying not to look too worried.  Never mind that he just killed four guys cold as anything, his first ones in this lifetime -not counting trips to the bookworld.

 

Yeah, it's a good thing Brice didn't lose an eye. It'd make things kinda awkward, plus he'd have to find a whole 'nother job. "No," he grimaces, holding the frozen cloth over the wound and keeping it frozen with his powers. "I was just here to ask a couple questions. I'm never going out without backup again..." Yeah, that'd be the smart thing, and a lesson he's definitely taking to heart. Neither is Brice concerned about the guy he just offed - he's got an excuse, it was all in the line of duty. And they can always get Chase off this by saying Brice shot them, although even an official investigation shouldn't find either of them guilty of anything but self-defense. "Keep the gun handy, but let's fuckin' get out of here."

 

Chase figures there are probably some cop laws getting broke right around now, but seeing as he never really was one to follow the letter of the law, it hardly gets a passing thought. He snorts though and mutters, "Remind me to point you to one of the drug houses, so you can witness a deal, and seize a car so you have /something/ to drive around in. Better close your eyes." Because Chase is going to do more naughty things. Namely crawl through the car's window above where Brice is leaning, crawl over the pieces of glass as well, and lean over to crack open the column of the steering wheel. A little fiddling underneath where the pedals are, wire against metal to spark the start, and the car humms to life. See, this whole hotwiring thing has it's uses. He pushes back across the seat, pushing the tiny glass pieces out of the way to crawl out once more, but not before unlocking the door. "Up and in. Need help?" So he can at least open the door for Brice.

 

Hey, the rule is generally 'When in doubt, save your life.' Which is exactly what Brice and Chase did, but they can get into debates about the legality of killing people later. Yeah, this is not a fun night. Brice takes a second to begin ripping his shirt up again, getting a couple of long strips that can be used to fashion a tourniquet, and he turns to ask Chase to put it on to slow the bleeding - but there's no otouto. And the car's roaring to life behind him. Oh no... He's got a sickening feeling in his stomach as he turns to look in the window, and yep Chase's hotwired the car. "Oh no..." No, he's not gonna like riding in a stolen car. Oh hellllllllll... "I'm not THAT hurt!" Apparently not if he can yell. But at the same time people aren't gonna like seeing a guy running down the street bleeding from a bullet hole in his arm. "Hell!" He nods, waits for Chase to open the door, and climbs in. "Get going, fast!"

 

"Oh, just get in," Chase mutters, actually sounding a little annoyed. They can add grand theft auto along to the manslaughter charges, but he really doesn't much care at the moment. Once Brice is within, he slams the door shut with a reminder to watch out for the glass. He darts around to the other side, climbs in, and then books towards the hospital. There has to be one nearby, right. Hand dips into a pocket, and he plucks out his cell phone and tosses it on the seat. Whee! Brice gets a ride with Chase though, and the boy sure does take those corner quickly. Good thing it is so late.

 

Oh yeah, hella good thing. But Chase better be damn careful or he's gonna get that wound banged against the car door - and man would Brice not be happy. Well, he's already not happy, but he'll be even more unhappy. Brice presses the cloth against the door with the wounded arm to keep it in place, reaching into his own pocket and pulling out /his/ cell - yes, he has one now, the department pays for it. Can't have its guys unreachable. He quickly dials a number and sandwiches the phone between his shoulder and head, once again reaching over to press the cloth down with his left hand. And as soon as someone answers, he's talking. "This is Kent! Get some guys down to the East river docks, there's been a shootout with some deaths. I've been hit, I'm on my way to the hospital in a brown 1993 Ford." Theory: report it fast and they'll be a lot less likely to come down hard on him. Although in this case they won't, as those guys were /firing on them/. "Ooph!" Yes, that's Brice being slammed into the door on one of those corners and nearly dropping the phone, thanks Chase.

 

Chase glances askance to Brice, looking once more to the other's arm, before it is back to the road. Granted, while all of these infractions and felonies cross the player's mind, not a single one cross the seishi's. He mutters something about loansharks sending him out on a fool's errand, but that is about it. Eventually, a hospital of sorts is located and he pulls up to it.

 

 

8/19/2003

11:20 PM

Logfile from Chase.

 

He'll ignore the part about the loan sharks right now. A very good idea, especially when he's still bleeding from that arm. He quickly finishes the "chat" with the police operator, then begins dialing another number, skin just now beginning to pale. If he didn't have that nice toughness factor he'd probably be on the verge of passing out about now. "Don't stop, go to the Berkley! GO!" Now that's the voice you just don't argue with. It's clear Brice has his reasons as he brings the phone to his ear again.

 

Brice begins to dial his phone.

 

<Phone> Brice waits 'til the pick up - barely. "Michael, is that you?" Yes, he's definitely in pain.

 

Alright. Chase shoots Brice a questioning glance. Instead of turning in to the hospital, he keeps right on the road, swerving around a cab. "Uh... okay." A little confused, but trusting in Brice's judgment, he makes a left to head towards home.

 

<Phone> "Shit," Brice curses, once again having to clamp his arm over the wound and re-freeze the fabric. "I'll explain later" is tossed to Chase before it's back to the phone. "Michael, it's Brice Kent, from next door - please tell me you'll be home soon, because I really need help here..."

 

Chase eyes Brice askance once more, questioning still but he'll leave it be. Well, at least the gunshot wound was only to Brice's arm though. Then again, seeing as Chase has never been shot in the arm with a bullet, who is he to know? "You.. uh... might want to try to keep your arm above your heart. I think that'll stop the flow more?"

 

<Phone> Brice nods at Chase's suggestion and spends a couple moments trying to lift his arm up - and fails, mostly because of the cramped space of the car. More cursing travels over the phone. "I'm in a car heading back to the Berkley. I got shot in the arm - I found Chase down at the docks, dangling from a window ledge and getting shot at by Rastafarians."

 

Chase will try to remember next time to jack a car that has a little bit more room then some old sedan. Yeah. You know, take the time to look for a really good suv. The boy cringes though as Brice has to go and elaborate, "You didn't have to go and tell the Suzaku that." Cause he is assuming that is who Brice just called now.

 

<Phone> "Puncture." Brice's grimmace can definitely be heard in his voice. "Wing I could deal with myself, or just get stitches, but this is buried somewhere in my upper arm." Yeah, a bullet's not gonna go all the way through him. "Sorry, but I didn't have a whole lot of choice... I think it's still in the muscle, it doesn't feel like it broke the bone or chipped it or anything, and I can still move the arm." It's just damn annoying and painful.

 

Chase's lips thin into a fine line, trying to keep his eyes on the road and not over across to Brice. He keeps his mouth shut though and continues driving through the late night traffic.

 

<Phone> "Sooner." Chase is a maniac driver. "It may be simple, but it's fuckin' painful..." Yeah, another grimmace. "Genbu, I can't wait 'til this night is over. We'll be there in a few minutes." Click. He can't hold the phone up any longer.

 

Chase winces, both visibly and inwardly. Hey. He is driving this way 'cause obviously getting Brice to the healer would be a good thing. "We'll be there any moment now," he adds, eyes still on the road.

 

<Phone> Michael mutters something and then says, "Great, don't get killed on the way here to have your wound treated.  What I wouldn't give to be able to portal at times like this..." he leaves it hanging "So, how far away are you now?"

 

The Berkley Apartments - 201

Modestly furnished and spartan, this apartment's most obvious feature is the mostly bare floor. A couch, a television and a desk with chairs are the only furniture on the dusty wooden floor, though the linoleum in the hall leading to the rest of the place is clean and polished.

Room Details: Kitchen, Bedroom

Mitsukake and Hikitsu are here.

Obvious exits:

Exit

 Michael turns and looks, "Oh, you're here... guess you are a pretty crazy driver... And just what did you think you were doing down on the docks?  You could both have been killed..." He closes the phone and says "Sit on this chair and let me have a look at that ..." he has a scisors in one hand and something that looks like forceps in the other, though it's very small tipped.

 

 

Since Michael said the door was gonna be open, Brice just walked in. He's got a piece of his shirt pressed to the wound, frozen by his powers and helping to stem the bloodflow. He's still mobile, but he looks half ticked-off and half in pain. "I was down there for my job," is his answer as he collapses in the chair, pulling away the fabric to reveal a bullet hole in his upper arm. "I'm never going anywhere without backup again.

 

Chase just sort of trails in behind Brice as they entering, looking for all the while rather guilty about this whole affair. And then when the Suzaku starts in on the scolding, a touch of belligerence begins to seep into his features. He follows in, moving to find a wall to lean up against, but still keeping an eye on the healer and Brice. His words carefully ease out, "Are you sure it is okay coming to this guy, Brice? Maybe we should have tried to get a hold of Cat? Or just maybe the hospital?"

 

Michael rolls his eyes "I meant Chase... I know you can take care of yourself Brice." his stern gaze is replaced by a sad look "Look, we share the load, and try to make sure you are all put back together when things go bad.  And you caught me in a bad mood, on the way to my parents for the evening, where I probably would have sat around listening to my mother talk about all the nice girls she would like to introduce me to... Anyway, ..." he motions for Brice to move his hand away "I can't get to it if you're holding onto it."  He sighs and sets down the tools, "This one is worth taking care of the /old fashioned/ way." and with that, he moves in for a bit of chi-driven action.

 

"It's fine, Chase- oww." Brice winces as the wound pulls against the muscle while he's removing his hand - tough he may be, but getting shot still hurts. "I don't think Cat could get the bullet out, and I don't know if it'd come out if she did her little spell. It'll be all right." The brother senses automatically register that belligerence and he throws a quick prayer to Genbu to keep Chase silent until they're done. "Sorry for interrupting the family fun... Try taking Cat next time, it'd probably throw them for a loop." He holds his arm out for Michael to examine, not exactly looking at it and not sure what he means by 'old fashioned' but wanting this to be over.

 

Chase is simply going to scowl at Michael now. Hey now. There was definitely some sort of insult tossed his way in that. But seeing as this is the guy that is going to be helping Brice here, he simply keeps his mouth shut on that score. Instead he murmurs, "Yeah, Cat would have been fun to take." Just filling in space and acting as if he really is interested in the conversation, which obviously he isn't. "Look, can you do-" But that tweak to the senses has him stilling.

 

Michael places one hand on the shoulder and one on the upper arm, and moves them gradually together, his eyes closed, highly focused.  He draws back both hands into a knitted temple before his face, his entire concentration on what he is doing.  He is muttering under his breath, but it's a solid mantra.  The bleeding slows, stops, the wound expands slightly and a distorted hunk of lead falls out onto the floor.  Slowly, evenly and in full view, the wound begins to close, the last indication being a slight redness around the area, which fades slowly as Michael moves his hands back to his thighs and looks into Brice's face "Now, it's going to be a bit tender for a couple of days.  I can put it back together, but the nerves are still frazzled in the area, and there's bruising in the muscle tissue.  Don't push yourself too much, or it will hurt more.  Take a couple of advil every couple of hours if it hurts, and if it feels like it's swelling at all, call me immediately, alright?"  He seems a bit tired, but not to any extreme.

.

Brice watches the entire operation out of the corner of his eye, with kind a macabre fascination for the healing. He winces when the bullet appears, but other than that gives no outward sign of his emotions other than a gradual loosening of his face as the pain disappears as well as the blood as hole. When Michael's done he takes back his arm and starts moving it around this way and that, testing the muscles and tendons and finding everything working perfectly. He nods, and stands, reaching out to shake Michael's hand. "Thanks a lot - going to the hospital would've put me in a sling for at least a week. I'll call you if anything goes wrong."

 

Chase blinks at where the bleeding hole was, and blinks again as it is no more and only that slight redness. The boy actually sighs with relief, slumping back against the wall just a little bit. But in the next breath the boy is bouncing forward, peering at the spot on Brice's arm anyway to make sure, and then leaning down to pick up that bullet. He tosses it up in the air, catches it, and then encloses his fingers about it to make a fist. Unease is still in his gaze, but he chuckles halfheartedly, "Yeah. I'm sure that Ash'll mother-hen him soon as she finds out." *gulp* "Next time I'll have to make sure that Brice actually moves out of the way when the bullets start flying." Or something. Distinct unease.

 

Michael takes a deep breath and sighs "You two hungry?  I won't be having dinner at my parents, I already let them know I was on the way and I might be late, so don't hold dinner over.  Anyway, I could use something to eat and drink and I'd like to hang with Brice here for a bit, just to make sure everything is fine..." He  looks from Brice to Chase and adds "Look, I wasn't miffed at you two, alright?  I was trying to defuse the situation with a bit of humor, and it came out wrong.  You don't know me well enough, and I hardly know the two of you.  Can it hurt?  Oh, and if you're short on cash, I'm buying?"  He sounds honest enough, but who knows what the testy Genbu think just now.

 

Hey, Brice isn't testy for the most part. Let's forget all the shouting matches with the otouto that Michael could probably hear through the apartment walls. "A little, yeah." Amazing since he just saw himself bleeding profusely. Never know what healings'll do to people. "But I should go down to the station and report what happened... People ended up dead in that. The bad guys, though." Thank god - Genbu or Suzaku, take your pick. "They'll want my statement - and I'll need my gun back, Chase." He holds out his hand to the otouto, expecting the gun to be procured and handed over. "And they'll want to hear from you as well. It was self-defense, so they can't do anything to you." Or me, he adds silently. Brice glances back at Michael, a bit of a grin on his face. "Don't worry, it's okay - Chase just thinks he's going to get yelled at by every adult figure. He doesn't get that it's just my job."

 

Chase warily eyes Michael. Granted, he might learn to like this guy, but right now he is decidedly on edge and exactly that, wary. The situation nearly has him jumping out of his skin, so that the idea of going out to eat after everything that just happened actually has the boy chuckling with some sort of amusement. His dark mop of hair shakes from side to side as he responds with the negative, "I uh... not hungry. Maybe another time." At the prompting, he reaches back to retrieve the gun, wincing a little at the cut to his palm, but quickly handing the gun to Brice before shoving that same hand into his pocket. "Yeah. We should try to explain things, I suppose." You know, killing some gang members, car stealing, that sort of stuff. And now the teenager will scuff his toe on the ground, "Aww hell. You and the rest of them." Never mind he is fairly sure he deserves it.

 

Michael looks from Brice to Chase "Ok, no problem." He looks at Chase and says "Something wrong?" Motioning to the hand.  Without waiting for an answer he says "Let me see." It's more of a request than a demand, but Michael is actually Dr. Mike... so... he expects people to do what he says when they are around "And don't worry about anyone honing in on us here, this place is very well warded.  Some of the more talented among us have ensured that.  It's something we all depend on because of situations like this."

 

"You want to come with us? I told them I was on the way to the hospital, but we kind of obviously didn't stop there... They'll probably wonder how I got the bullet out of me." Yeah, that's gonna be an... interesting thing. Brice showing up perfectly fine after supposedly being shot. Maybe he should get a bandage around that arm for camoflague's sake. Then he shakes his head. "No, I don't want to get your parents more annoyed at you... Wait a minute, Chase." He shoots the otouto a concerned frown, hauling Chase's hand out of his pocket without asking for permission. "You got hurt on that window... Great." Broken glass - not a child's toy! "Come on, they can fix you up at the station... Thanks again, Michael. Rain check on that dinner?"

 

Chase is simply going to ignore any doctorly demands. You know, that whole being beligerant thing. And just as easily, he is immediately tugging his hand right on back and away from aniki. "I'm /fine/." He looks back to Michael and nods, "Yeah. Thanx. If you ever need anything like... whatever. Come on over. I'm sure Kenny would like to meet you too, unless you guys haven't already met." He shoots a glance back to Brice and nods his head, "We'll come up with something."

 

Michael reaches to the floor, picking up the lump of lead "Souvenir?" he holds out the item and nods "Rain check, definitely, and bring Chase.  Might as well keep it friendly from now on."  "I could bandage the arm.  It'll only take a couple minutes..." Then he changes his mind, looking at Brice's shirt "Nevermind, just tell them that you got splattered.  Your shirt's still ripped and bloody, and there is some bruising on the arm, so it will wash."

 

Brice visibly shudders and holds up his hand, refusing the "souvenir". "No thanks - I don't need to remember my first 'red badge of courage', to use a bad literary allusion. I'll just rip up the shirt and use it for bandaging - I'll call you or slip a note under your door about that dinner." Brice shakes his head at Chase's actions and hands him one of the shirt-strips he was going to use as a tourniquet. "At least clean up the blood. Come on, let's get down to the station. Thanks again, Michael." And then he's out the door to go sort out this mess.

 

Chase shoots a glance back at Michael, shrugs his shoulders, and then follows after Brice, muttering as they continue down the hall and away from Michael's place, "Are you sure your arm is alright? I mean, he /is/ a Suzaku. You never know with them. He seems like an okay guy, but still... you might want to get that checked out at the hospital. What in the hell are you going to tell Ash? She is going to kill me. I know it..."