THE ALL HEART!

Fight for the faceless and the voiceless. Fight for those who can't. [ ind. original character. ]

[conspiratie]

@assumewhatyouwill | (x)

“That’s -- if I knew who I wouldn’t just be warning you!”

[conspiratie]

if you’d like to, like for a starter!

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longtiime:

      Life isn’t always fair.

No, but... if a miracle is supposed to be good, then it has to be fair. If it’s not then it’s just getting -- you’re just lucky. There’s nothing miraculous about luck.

[conspiratie]

assumewhatyouwill:

      “Okay.” Miguel doesn’t really react much to being yelled at, keeping his expression neutral, but supportive. “I’ll help you up if you fall.”

She nods, still a bit wary of him, but showing some gratitude. “Thanks. Follow me.” If she can make it to the payphone, she can call Lyra, and then and only then she can be safe. 

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assumewhatyouwill:

      “Ah…” Miguel watches this transpire, not sure what she’s doing until she states a direction. It must be some sort of superpower, which he has experience with, so he just accepts her directions. He offers a hand to help her back to her feet. “Alright, we’ll go there. Can you walk on your own or do you need to lean on me a bit?”

“No!” Maybe yelling was too much. Again, she hurts her head, and she has to take his hand to get back up. “I can walk. Just... if I fall, help me up.”

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longtiime:

      Not everything makes sense.

Then it’d be unfair.

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longtiime:

      Oh? Why do you say that?

Because then... it just wouldn’t make sense.

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assumewhatyouwill:

      “Well, we’ll have to agree to disagree for the moment about the safety of pay phones, but I will accommodate you on this one. Payphone it is.” He stroked his chin, then pointed. “My first guess would be a gas station or a convenience store and the nearest one to here is that way.”

“I can -- I’ll find it.” 

With a direction in mind, she can focus her thinking. Hurts like a witch with a capital B to do so, but it’s the quickest and therefore safest way. Juliet kneels down and places a palm on the ground, reading the area. 

“There’s one on 48th Street and 47th Ave. It’s closest, I think.”

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longtiime:

      A miracle.

      It’s not the sort of thing you can really explain, you just know them when you see them.

Miracles are -- that’s not a real thing.

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assumewhatyouwill:

      “A payphone?” Miguel gave her a slightly quizzical look. “I can help you find one, but would a cell phone work just as well?”

“No, those are -- cell phones aren’t safe.” Not that a payphone is much either, but at least those are relatively anonymous. She never has to use it again and it doesn’t put anyone in danger.

“Payphone or I walk. Those are -- it’s not safe any other way.”

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longtiime:

I see. You should hang around for a bit then; you might see something interesting.

Like what?

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assumewhatyouwill:

      “You’re not fine,” Miguel says, putting an arm under hers to help her stay upright. He can’t push his apartment as an option; that would just sound creepy and weird, so he’s running out of things he can offer as help. “Do you have any friends who can help you? Anyone you can call?”

Friends! she honest to god forgot she had those. “Yes, but I don’t have -- I need a payphone to call.”

[conspiratie]

longtiime:

      You’ve never noticed?

I’m not from -- I don’t come here often.

[assumewhatyouwill]

      He frowns, still convinced that she should get that looked at, but he can’t, in good conscience, force her to accept help. “I can take you somewhere quiet, then? My apartment isn’t far from here and there’s not usually too many people around at this time.”

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“I don’t -- I don’t know where you live or how you live or what’s around it or who’s in your apartment or, or, or,” she could go on, she would go on if it didn’t make her dizzy to. Juliet holds onto Miguel’s shoulders for support, but she remains adamant, 

“I’m fine... I will be.”

[longtiime]

Strange things happen here.

[conspiratie]

Like what?

[assumewhatyouwill]

      He feels bad that she’s shouting at him, but his face stays neutral. Habit; he’s almost always in therapist mode. “Head injuries can do a lot of damage without it being noticed… Are you absolutely certain you don’t want help?”

[conspiratie]

“I don’t need it.” And she’s being honest. Juliet’s rehabbed a number of traumatic injuries over the past few year on her own. Though she doesn’t know it, it’s the perks of being dead. “And I don’t need doctors knowing my name or trying to keep me there. I just need quiet.”

[navrhu]

      “If you say so.”

[conspiratie]

“No, I mean, I wasn’t trying to be -- I’m serious.”