savetheearth | closed;

who: Owen and Ken
where: some sketchy part of town they ended up at
when: fowarded to late Friday night
what: Owen and Ken meet up and started walking together! unfortunately, they run into the wrong person at the wrong time and this wrong person has a gun and he wanted to mug them. or something.
warnings: guns! violence, and injury!

[It was a simple fact of the matter tat Ken sometimes left his house after nine in the evening and walked around town. He's been doing less of it recently since the Numbers business worried his dad, but this weekend he has an Important Appointment with somebody important, and he's honestly nervous. Instead of wringing his hands at home, he decided a walk wold calm him down the best.

He wasn't expecting to run into the guy with the Hero exclamations and the definitely illegal sword from Toothpick day on his trek out, but it's outside some 24-hour store when he walked out with some food that he almost accidentally bumps into him (again). It's hard to forget someone you met in that way and so they ended up talking and walking, making small talk. It's a little too late by the time they realize they're in a part of town they probably shouldn't have been, but for now, Ken's totally unaware, offering Owen some of the chips he procured earlier.]

Here. Do you want some?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[No, no, no. Some part of Ken's mind screams to cast Zionga, to bring upon that bastard what he has coming. For hurting someone, for hurting Owen, that guy has to hurt. He's dangerous. He's terrible. He needs to, he needs to--

He tears himself away from those thoughts and scrambles to Owen instead, shaking hands reaching out to try and turn him on his back so he can breathe.]

Owen, Owen, where are you hurt?

[The first shot wasn't pleasant, surely. Hit somewhere high and to the left. Probably broke something in his shoulder-collar area. Bad, but could be dealt with.

The second shot was lower, but still to the left. A small hole oozing red just like the other. At first glace it doesn't even look that bad.

Well, except the blood keeps bubbling and *frothing* with each wheeze. His thick hoodie hides anything that might be ruined under it. The hole makes *noise*.]

...'m alright. You should... get your dad...

[He shouldn't be talking, he can feel that. But words are Owen's life, his lively hood, his proof of existence. Even if each one feels like razor blades coming up he can't stop. They paint his teeth red]

[He's never heard blood move like that. He's never seen blood like that, not even in the movies. Movies don't show things like that -- at least not the ones his dad let him. He can smell the gunpowder and the blood and his stomach ties itself into a knot and he thinks he's going to be sick. His hands are wet and stained red from when he touched Owen.]

Hold-- hold on.

[Diarama. Diarama. He scrambles, hands fumbling, to take his Evoker out, the steel glinting in the light as he raises it to his head.]

I can help you.

[He thinks. Please let it work. It's got to work, right?]

[Gun? Gun?! Owen wants to panic, grab the kid- he hadn't seen the Envoker when they fought together before. But no matter how much he wills himself to reach over and stop him, just just can't. He's too heavy.]

Ken...

You can't talk. [He shakes his head and presses the Evoker to his forehead and pulls the trigger.

But there's no blood or death. There's the shattering sound of glass and the only thing to explode is glowing, blue light. A monster appears, towering over them, and Ken takes a breath.]

Nemesis!

[Diarama. It's not an immediate magic like Zionga, but he watches closely for the injury to heal, prepared to cast the spell again.]

[Oh, he recognizes that thing. Is he going to electrocute him? His thoughts form and break apart as quickly as they come. He almost wants to laugh at the image, but all that comes out is a grunt. His heart hasn't stopped Ken, don't do that...

But then there's a warmth, and suddenly his weak grunts do manage to become harsh short barks of laughter. Oh, that was easier wasn't it?]

[Oh good. Oh good. It's working. But is it enough? He can't tell through all the blood. It's getting all over his sleeves as he touches Owen's shirt gingerly, trying to see if there's any open wounds, but he doesn't care about that and he's lifting the Evoker to his head again, giving Diarama another shot.

It totally wipes him out. He wonders for a second if it's taking energy or life forces from him -- but it can take it for all he cares if that's what it's doing.]

I'm not gonna let you die... [Not another one. Never another one, not even without the face of some man he doesn't even like smiling at him from under a beanie as he collapses in a puddle of his own blood in a green-lit alleyway flickering in his head and he thinks he's going to be sick.] I'm not gonna let you die, Owen.

[The wounds close: Owen can *feel* that, and it's creepy as all hell. But he ignores the crawly growing sensation, instead reaching up-

-and ruffling Ken's hair. He doesn't realize he's rubbing blood in there, oops.]

Hey... it's okay. Remember, I look too good to die.

[The joke, lame as it was, was spoken with a soft concerned tone.]

I'm alright... you're alright. He's gone. You can stop... you did good.

[He doesn't care about the blood in his hair. He doesn't feel as much comfort from the hand as much as he's just relieved that Owen is breathing again. He's alive. He's going to live. He said he's all right, and he's going to live. He didn't get him killed.

Owen blurs in his eyes as they well up with tears. He's alive. He's alive and he drops his Evoker as he slumps forward, ready to fall down crying but keeping himself up as best as he can. It takes a moment, and it's after a sob, but he raises his hands again to help Owen up, hoping that he'll be okay. He doesn't care if that then gets the blood all over the front of his clothes.]

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

[Owen let's Ken help him to sit up, wincing slightly but trying his best to hide it.

Once he's up enough he doesn't hesitate, pulling the kid into a near crushing hug. Even though it hurts. A lot. Maybe even more then the original shot did]

Th-that was pretty scary, huh?

Are you okay? Are you really okay? [He's grasping Owen's shirt and doing his best to raise his head to look at him even if his face is totally wet and dirty now.]

I can heal you more. I'll call my dad. Or you can use my phone to call your aunt. Or the hospital -- are you okay?

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