savetheearth | 02 ✝ [handwritten/action; pen and notepad]

I must be bloody well insane to think that this is going to work, but I suppose I really have no choice now, do I?

[Francis is scribbling some curvy cursive handwriting across a notepad; he was somewhat thankful that he always kept a notepad and pen on him, for emergencies. Though he hadn't thought he'd be needing it for an emergency of this nature...]

If anyone can actually see this, I need some help. I was out on the streets, walking from the coffee shop after my night classes were complete, and I was attacked by two men- one armed with a firearm, though I think it was filled with blanks. He fired a warning shot near me, but I don't see any evidence of a bullet hole anywhere.

They took my phone, they took my wallet, and they beat the ever-living piss out of me. I can't call for any authorities, I can barely move, and I'm a bit isolated here.

[As he writes, blood is dripping from his nose. Wiping it with the back of his hand, blood smears begin getting mixed in with his writing as it appears on the page, though he's not aware of it. He hardly thinks this is going to work, let alone show everything that shows up on the page, writing or blood.]

If someone could send the police... or an ambulance, or both, I would really appreciate it. Lord, this is why we need pay phones. I'm not even sure if anybody can actually see this... Ugh, Francis, of course they can't see this, you're writing to yourself in a notebook.

Well, in case this somehow actually works.

[Francis writes down the address he's located near on the notepad, along with some brief directions to his exact location, and then sets aside his pen, slumping back against the alley wall in frustration.]

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[Nick sees this, but as soon as he reads it through enough to see that the man has written down his location, he doesn't bother replying.

He's still pretending that he isn't a cop on the network, as much as he can, so there's no reason to broadcast to everyone that he's a police officer and he'll come to help right away.

Instead, he just drives over, parking nearby and then walking slowly towards the address, scanning for any sign of someone injured. When he spots a man leaning against an alleyway, he stops.]

Hello? I'm Detective Burkhardt, are you all right?

[Francis is sitting on the ground, back pressed up against the alley's brick wall. In one hand is his pen, pressed to a notebook resting on his leg. The other hand is gripping his side in pain. He's quite beat up: a black eye, a bloody nose, several cuts across his face and hands, and that's of course not counting the damage that is underneath his clothes.

When he hears a voice Francis nearly jumps out of his skin, pen falling out of his hand and clattering to the ground. He looks up at the officer and groans a mixture of relief and terror.]

Really, does it look like I'm alright??

[Despite himself, the corners of Nick's mouth twitch upwards in an almost-smirk, though his tone is carefully neutral.]

Of course not. That doesn't always stop people from telling me that yes, they're fine, and I should just mind my own business. Let me call an ambulance, and you can tell me what happened.

... You have a point.

[He stares down at his notepad, which was still swarming with text and images and, dear god, actual noise... Nervous that the cop might not be associated with this whole strange debacle, and perhaps just for the sake of his own sanity, Francis shuts the notepad roughly and stuffs it away in his pocket.]

I was mugged by... two young men, wearing dark hoods. I didn't get a good look at their faces, but I think one of them might have gone to the university...? The other, I don't think did. They took my wallet, and my phone...

One of them- the one I didn't really recognize- had a gun, but I think it was full of blanks. He fired a round but...

[He looks around himself, straining a bit as he tries to sit up higher.]

There are no bullet holes.

[He notices the notebook, of course, considering that's how he found the man, but for the moment, he doesn't draw attention to it. Unless this was somehow related to the network, Nick doesn't want to out himself as a cop on the network.

Instead, he dials 911, giving his name and their location with a brief explanation and a request for an ambulance. Then he hangs up, turning back to the man.]

They took your phone? That could actually be good, we might be able to use it to track them.

Nick crouches down as he listens, looking the man over and doing a brief assessment of his injuries. Nick's had first aid training, of course, since he's often a first responder, but unless it's something life threatening, he'd prefer to leave it to the EMTs.]

Blanks? Have you ever heard a gun being shot before?

As long as I can get it back, then sure, it's a good thing, yay. It was a smart phone- an LG Optimus Black if that helps.

[Francis shifts a little as Nick crouches down. It doesn't seem anything's broken, or at least he doesn't think anything's broken, but he is bruised to all hell and still bleeding.]

Hah, in person before tonight? No, never. Maybe I'm not the best person to ask when it comes to guns. I'm really just guessing based on what I can see, and perhaps trying to keep myself from having a panic attack about the whole ordeal.

02 ✝ [handwritten/action; pen and notepad]

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