(no subject)

[v-accidentprone.livejournal.com]

[oom: Time flies when you're having fun.]

Alex breathes out something like a sigh of relief upon finding Milliways on this side of the door. He could have kept going until he found a phone and seen the whole thing through as is, but it would be better all around if he has a few hours to recover first. Less people wondering what the hell kind of a trouble a ball boy could have gotten into.

His first priority, he guesses, is to get some towels and ice packs from the bar. For something like half the route, he's okay, if limping a little, but somewhere around the mid-point, he feels a wave of dizziness and decides that, actually, what he'd really like to do is sit down.

Now.

The lack of chairs doesn't really bother him; instead, he lets himself fall sit on the floor somewhat heavily and lower his head in the hopes of making the room spin a little less. What doesn't occur to him is that now, to the average observer, there's a fourteen-year-old boy covered in dirt and dust and bleeding from the back of his head (not to mention the scattering of wooden splinters all along his neck and back, and that's only what's currently visible) curled up on the floor.

What was he thinking earlier? Something about less questions?



[ooc: And closed to new threads unless I've poked you, I think. ♥ Alex'll be around for visiting soon.]

Comments

[respectthegun]

"Kid, you're sitting where I'm trying to walk."

Lawton is really sympathetic and concerned. You can tell, because he didn't step on him.

[v-accidentprone.livejournal.com]

Alex raises his head just enough so he can see who just talked to him. (His nose is bleeding.)

And, slowly, deliberately, stretches his legs out so he's even more in Lawton's way.

[respectthegun]

Really? Really?

The man in the spandex, with the weird porno moustache and a half smoked cigarette in his mouth, looks at the legs.

Then at Alex, with a sort of puzzled look ion his face.

It's not like the guns are concealed.

[v-accidentprone.livejournal.com]

He's pretty sure he knows what Lawton is thinking, and frankly, he's tired of dealing with this. "Would you really want to shoot me? In front of a hundred witnesses?"

[gorgonfondness]

Know who he's sure to worry?

Not only people who know him but people who don't know him but know and care about Scorpius.

He could probably hear a woman across the room cry out, "Scorpius!" in shock before someone rushes over to him.

Once Mia gets close enough to kneel down and start looking him over, she can see that he's not her not-quite-stepson. She can also see the blood on the back of his head and it only increases her concern.

"Are you all right?" she asks more calmly than her initial outburst. "What's happened?"

[v-accidentprone.livejournal.com]

He hears the name, but doesn't currently have the energy to put it to the similar-looking boy he's met. He lifts his head, mildly puzzled, since - well, the adults in his life have a tendency to just sort of let him get on with things, even dealing with injuries, unless he's actually unconscious. Even Jack, though to a lesser extent than others.

He raises his head and absently wipes some of the blood coming from his nose away from his mouth. "I'm all right," he says (not because it's true, but because, in his experience, it's what people want to hear). His accent is off from Scorpius's and his face is younger, but - well. His voice sounds odd, anyway, talking with the bloody nose, and even without the distraction of various injuries, he tends to take on an older quality when he's been working.

[gorgonfondness]

It answered the question Mia was really asking, which was, Are you conscious?

"You look like a brainpicker was trying to make you dinner," she comments, waving over a waitrat and requesting a few things for first aid. She's also taking things out of her pockets, green, leafy, and vaguely mint scented.

Mia's own voice, once he'll be able to think about it, is rather unusual. Her accent, to put it in most accurate terms, is otherworldly.

[v-accidentprone.livejournal.com]

Alex has no idea what a brainpicker is, but now that he's been pulled out of his Riderball, he's starting the slow process of standing up. It doesn't really occur to him that she's trying to help, because he's still in that world where adults will try to kill kids without a second thought and the encounter with Lawton upthread didn't help, either.

[scots_wolf]

"They have an infirmary here," a very tall, very broad-shouldered man with very long blond hair says.

He's leaning on the bar and watching football on the screen behind the bar, turning his head to impart this information to the boy on the floor.

[v-accidentprone.livejournal.com]

"Thanks," the boy on the floor mutters.

He'll absolutely get up in a minute and go check that out. Really.

[scots_wolf]

Before that minute or so is over, the man turns his head again.

"Somebody might fall over you," he says. "You look dreadful, by the way."

[v-accidentprone.livejournal.com]

"I was thinking of modeling," he answers, apparently unbothered by the idea of being fallen over. "I'm crushed now."

[wheatencrown]

Demeter almost trips on him and sits beside him with a frown, she's in a green dress, not wearing any shoes and just came in from gardening,

"What happened to you?"

[v-accidentprone.livejournal.com]

He... he really doesn't have the energy to spare to come up with a good cover for this.

"It's a long story."

[wheatencrown]

"It always is. Do you think you can stand to make it to a chair?"

[v-accidentprone.livejournal.com]

"Yes."

He is a Rider. Riders can always make it to a chair!

...Yes.

[madeyoudodge]

It takes about thirty seconds for someone to cross the floor, and fall into a much more controlled crosslegged seat near to him, knees only about six inches away.

Cathy ducks her head slightly, extending her hand with palm up, low but in his field of vision. "Hey," she says, and her voice is mostly calm but urgent. "Are you with me?"

[v-accidentprone.livejournal.com]

Wryly: "Apparently."

He uses the back of his wrist to wipe some blood away from his mouth. "Who are you?"

[madeyoudodge]

"Well, good," she says, and though it's relieved, there's a slight edge of sarcasm in reaction to his wryness. TEENAGERS. She crosses her arms on her knees. "Cathy Bloom-- Definitely not a medical professional, I just have a lot of stupid friends."

He seems like he's pretty not-surprised by this, which could be shock, but given the setting and sarcasm she'll give him a pass. "Do you want me to get you anything, or help you to the med place?" (She's not going to just leave him alone.)

[starrydome]

"Sit still." The voice is deep and warm. Kind even. But it's still if not an order then at least a very strong suggestion.

From a trained and very experienced professional.

[v-accidentprone.livejournal.com]

The sort of voice that inspires instant confidence, one might say. Even if the person listening is starting to feel somewhat out of it. "What?"

[starrydome]

"You have been hurt. I want to make sure that it is not a serious injury before you sit back up," Elrond - for it is he - says, placing a steadying hand on the young Man's upper arm.

After a brief inspection, he gives the arm a squeeze. "It is not too bad. What is your name?"

He is wearing a robe today, of a dark grey silken material. And his long, dark hair is braided, leaving his face and ears free.

[a1enzo]

And here's that green boy again, looking down at him with concern.

"Dude," he says, dropping into a squat. "Are you... no, of course you're not okay, BASIC question. Can you be moved?"

[v-accidentprone.livejournal.com]

"I can move."

See? He's moving now in a more or less upward direction.

[a1enzo]

Enzo nods worriedly. "Then you might want to move that way," he says, pointing toward the infirmary.