2501/A Rough Night

A Rough Night
Date of Scene:	18 September 2017
Location:	Gotham City
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Huntress, Question

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Huntress has posed:
As the old saying goes: 'Some days you eat the bear and some days the bear eats you.' Tonight, Helena was definitely feeling like *the bear* was eating well. For starters, her informant turned out to be not as reliable as she would've liked. And during the long, cold, motorcycle ride home she decided that he probably ratted her out.

It was supposed to be routine surveillance, just listening in on a meeting between a couple of bosses. Instead, it was an ambush. Oh, Huntress gave a lot better than she got, but the throbbing in her side got MUCH worse during the last couple of blocks. By the time she went through her usual 'lose any tail' protocol and hid the bike, the wounded vigilante was really wishing she'd opted for something other than the penthouse.

Whether by grappling hook or fire escape, it's still a long way up...

Question has posed:
"Looks like you need a hand, H." says a voice out of the darkness.

The Question slipping out from the shadows of the alleyway that he has been lurking in to move over and help keep Helena steady, taking one of her arms to slip over his shoulder and accept some of her weight. "I don't think you're going to be climbing back up by yourself. Why don't you let me give you a hand."

It's not like he is waiting for an answer, as he starts to move towards the fire escape, supporting her as best as he can.

"I caught sight of you leaving..." he says, anticipating the question 'How?'. "...it looked like you would need some help, so I figured I would meet you here. Knew I would beat you here if you were looking to loose a tail." He pauses, looking all the way up. "You need an elevator."

Huntress has posed:
Huntress is quite clearly favoring her left side by now, and even though she's readying the grappel she keeps pressing her right hand against her left ribs. Wincing when he slips her arm over his shoulder, she smirks in response. "This is all part of my workout plan, actually. Climb a million stairs and then plummet to my death."

She grunts as he moves her, walking more or less on her own. By the time they reach the fire escape, however, it's more-less than more-more. Reaching up with her free hand, she can't jump high enough to pull down the fire escape ladder. "Elevators are for the weak." she adds.

And then she passes out.

Question has posed:
"Shit." says The Question as she passes out.

Glancing once again up the building he sighs before turning his attention to the grapple line she was prepping for her crossbow. "Well, now would be as good a time as any to learn to fly, butterfly." Vic says, recalling the nickname Richard bestowed upon him during training.

Gently, he lowers Huntress to the ground before picking up the crossbow and aiming it up, up, up, "She's going to kill me if I break her window.", and fires.

Huntress has posed:
The 'official' entrance to the Huntress lair is via the skylight, of course. Vic knows this. And he also knows there's really only two ways to reach it. So it's either climb up the metal, open-grate stairs with an unconscious woman over his shoulder or trust the job to the high-end grapple line motors.

For her part, Helena doesn't even groan when he sets her down. She's still breathing, but the sheen of blood is starting to show on the black and purple costume.

At least the hook catches on the roof's ledge.

Question has posed:
The clink of the bolt hooking onto the roof causes a small sigh of relief to the faceless vigilante. "Ok...so far so good. Now, lets see about getting you up there." he says to the unconscious Huntress.

Moving over to her, he takes the end of the rope and slides one end through her belt, and makes a loop tied in a slipknot to place her foot in, cinching it against the groove between sole and heal. Carefully he lifts her, supporting her upper body.

Taking in the slack of the rope to gauge its strength to make sure it will hold both of them before starting to use the hoist to real them up towards the roof.

Huntress has posed:
The hoist mechanism is still warm from the 'military surplus' list, which means it was declassified mere months ago. It's nearly silent as it winches the pair of them upward, not even protesting the weight. Somewhere just short of the top, Huntress jerks as she awakens. "Hmmmmm... Huh? What? Who?" she starts to stiffen, then she remembers and relaxes.

"Remind me to thank you later for not dropping me, Q." she offers, arms tightening a little around his chest. With her head against his shoulder, she smells like the night air. Sweat and wind and just a hint of blood.

Question has posed:
"You can thank me now by not dying." says Question as he hold her a little bit closer as they reach the roof. "Do you think you can make it over the ledge yourself? I can give you a boost, but I can't push you all the way over. Option two is me climbing up there first, then pulling you over."

He glances to the sides, "Or, if you don't mind having to get a new window, we can go though the side here. It's not as stealthy as your skylight, but might be easier on your body that straining to get onto the roof."

Huntress has posed:
Huntress grunts as she shifts against him, and she shakes her head. Briskly. "I... can make it." she hisses. "Hope I'm not getting blood on your coat." The winch begins to whine more softly as the speed decreases, leaving them both hanging just over the edge.

It takes Huntress two tries to swing a leg up and catch the ledge, and she gasps only once when she reaches a hand up. The gasp becomes a hiss, and then he sees her go over in an ungraceful roll. There's a loud <thump!>, and then she's quiet. When he gets up to the roof he'll discover that she's passed out again.

Question has posed:
"Don't worry about my coat. It isn't the first and won't be the last that has gotten blood on it". Question gives Huntress as much of a boost as he can, placing his free hand where he can to help push her over the ledge. If he places it somewhere he should have asked permission for like her rear, he will just have to apologize later.

Once she is up and over the ledge, he makes quick work of getting himself over the ledge. He peers down at the re-unconscious woman and sighs, moving to lift her gently and carrying her across the roof to her 'secret entrance', opening the hidden latch with his foot before making his way inside.

"Ok, Helena." he says softly as he places her down onto an area rug, easier to throw it away than to clean a couch. "Sorry if i am crossing boundaries, but we need to see how bad this is." Vic takes one of the bolts from her supply, and cuts away at the costume where the blood is seaping from.

Huntress has posed:
The skylight (with an opaque glass dome) drops them down into a secret room behind the bookcase in her living room. All of the weapons and gear are mounted in backlit cases and neatly arranged. The door pivots quietly, opening into the living room.

Helena groans softly as she's lowered to the rug, both arms falling akimbo. There are more than a few sharp things for throwing and cutting on the costume, but the arrows are most accessible. And most obvious. The blood is seeping from her left side, and cutting away the dark fabric shows that the kevlar-weave blunted a good deal of the bullet's impact. It also turned the shot into a glancing blow instead of puncturing a lung. The dark, red crease along her ribs oozes a bit less steadily now that she's stopped moving.

Question has posed:
"Well..." says Vic as he starts to pull off his gloves and coat, "Looks like we are going to have to do something about that."

He stands up, heading for the kitchen to grab a couple of towels. As he does, he triggers the gas on his belt that allows his mask to un-adhere to his face, and pulls it off, stuffing it into the compartment on his buckle.

Coming back, Vic kneels down next to Helena again. "This is likely to hurt." he utters as takes the towels and presses them hard against the wound.

Huntress has posed:
Huntress's breathing is deep but steady, her eyes covered by the mask. At least the wound isn't bubbling. Her body jerks when he presses the towels into the wound, and she hisses sharply as well. If she was unconscious before, she's awake now.

Awake and cursing rapidly in Italian, no less.

When he sliced the kevlar-blend fabric he revealed the edge of a sports bra. Purple, of course. Catching a breath, she switches to English again. "Master bath... bottom left drawer... first aid kit..." she grunts.

Question has posed:
Taking Helena's hand, Vic guides it to the towel and holds it there. "Press here, hard."

With that, Vic rises from his crouched position next to her and makes his way into her bedroom to find the master bath and rummage for the first aid kit. Upon finding it he returns to the living room, pauses and makes his way over to the kitchen again looking for the junk drawer. He rummages around in the drawer for a moment before finding a small tube of superglue. Upon finding that, he returns to her side placing the kit and glue down next to him as he squats back down again. "Not sure if this is going to need stitches. Might be able to get away with glueing it shut depending on how deep it is."

Huntress has posed:
Huntress holds the towel in place, the pain having given her enough adrenaline to stay awake for the moment. She tilts her head, but can't get a good look without removing the improvised bandage. "It doesn't feel that bad. Glue first; if it opens I can stitch it later." She pulls the towel away briefly. Still bleeding, but not excessive.

"There should be gauze pads and wraps in the kit, too." Helena offers. With the hand not holding the towel, she removes her mask and shakes her head gently to toss out those dark locks. "I wasn't expecting a dozen shooters tonight. So much for a quiet evening."

Question has posed:
The Question says, "At least it wasn't the Spanish Inquisition. Nobody ever expects them." says Vic with a grin as he settles down, pulling the cap off the glue with his teeth and spitting it to the side. Gently, he places a hand on hers and pulls the towel away, "This is likely to hurt. Steady yourself."

Inch by inch he puts glue directly onto the wound, then presses the sides of the wound together until they bond. It's a slow process. "I'll wrap it once I make sure the glue holds." he says matter of factly. "No point until then."

"Yeah, you might have been better off witching Netflix if you wanted a quiet evening. So...what were you after tonight anyway? I only heard the gunfire and saw the aftermath. I decided to make sure you made it ok instead of follow the shooters.""

Huntress has posed:
Huntress chuckles at the Spanish Inquisition reference, regretting it almost immediately. Almost reluctantly she draws the towel away, and when he tells her to steady herself she draws a crossbow bolt from a quiver. Placing the shaft between her teeth like a bit, she nods.

No screaming, but Helena grunts and hisses plenty while Vic slowly and deliberately knits the wound together. Shuddering in short bursts, she glares at him with those angry blue eyes when he tries to make light banter. Only when the wound is glued together does she take out the bolt with a relieved sigh.

"A meeting between bosses. Or that's what it was supposed to be." She pauses, then adds. "Come to think of it, there weren't *any* bosses there tonight. At least not before all the shooting started. I think my source needs some... counseling."

Question has posed:
Once the wound is closed, and seems to be remain closed, Vic stands again and makes his way to the kitchen. He searches around for a large bowl, setting it into the sink and letting water flow into it as he finds a few more kitchen towels. "Is that what you are calling it now? Counseling?" says Vic with a bit of a smirk. He glances over the kitchen counter, "You're not in any condition to be counseling anyone at the moment, Helena. You'll be lucky if you can make it to class tomorrow. You might want to call in for a sub."

He takes the bowl of water and towels over, kneeling down next to her as he starts to clean the area around the wound with the water and towels. "Are you hurt anywhere else that needs to be looked at, or was this the only bleeder you know about?"

Huntress has posed:
Huntress just lays there on the floor, and now that she's no longer bleeding she starts to examine the wound more closely. Wrinkling her nose, likely at the cut kevlar, she nods once. "You're right about the sub tomorrow, I think. And I was just starting to actually *accumulate* some sick days for a change."

Reaching for her belt, she slips a phone from a protective case and sends a quick text. "I felt quite a few hits, actually, but I think the coat took most of them. But at least nobody hit me in the face. You know how hard it is to explain a black eye or a busted lip to my department head?"

Propping up onto an elbow, then, she flashes him a grin that's a lot more playful. "You're more than welcome to check for yourself, of course. But bring me a glass of red wine first? It has remarkable healing properties for us Italians."

Question has posed:
The Question chuckles, sitting back on his haunches for a moment and looking at Helena with a smirk. "Red and fruity, or red and dry?" He stands, tossing the wet and bloodied towel over his shoulder as he moves towards the kitchen. "I'll check for other wounds as I help you get out of that costume. You're going to need the help."

Huntress has posed:
Huntress purses her lips and replies "Red and full-bodied. A merlot would do nicely, I think. And bring two glasses. I'll let you undress me now that you have a face, but I'll feel a lot better about it over a glass of wine." Easing up a bit more, she moves slowly and grunts. "I'm just glad it's not bikini season. Gonna be quite a few bruises."

Question has posed:
Laughing, Vic looks for a bottle of merlot, and then going about finding the corkscrew as well. He opens the wine, letting it breath for a moment as he responds. "It's going to take two glasses of wine and me having a face? Man, I have lost my touch. I'd hate to see the conditions if I was trying to ask you out on a date instead of doing first aid." he says with a grin, pouring the glasses and bringing them over. "I promise I will leave the more intimate details of your state of dress to your capable hands. I'm pretty sure you can manage those on your own."