#lcrissa

[jaredxhawley]

( @lcrissa )

Jared began typing out another message before clearing, muttering, “This is accomplishing nothing.” He hit call instead, and waited for the other line to answer. “Now, what were you saying?”

[jaredxhawley]

( @lcrissa )

He was monumentally lucky that their schedules matched up, and Jared knew it. After all, his job kept him busy enough, and he knew that Larissa often worked and studied at the hospital. At her confirmation that she was available, he about-faced and started for her place. The door was open, after all. He pushed the door open, knocking as he did so. “Now, I know it’s weird to see me in actual, daylight, working hours,” he said. “It’s weird for me, too.”

[jaredxhawley]

( @lcrissa )

When he blinked awake, he almost wished he had stayed down a while longer. Everything in his head felt like lead, but he felt the power of the sun already moving to those places to heal him. With some effort, Jared sat up, trying to blink away the fog when he realized his glasses had been knocked off of his face. He put his hand on the ground, sweeping the area to find the frames, and when his hand did finally hit them, he put them on only to realize that his left lens was cracked down the middle. It was distracting, but he could see. Little miracles.

Jared felt life coming back to his limbs, and he stood shakily, realizing that there was still too much to do. Just as he had thought when Seth Sutton had attacked, he had a choice to make.

He needed to be more active in his help. He sighed, wondering if this insurrection was the moment when his ability would come to… to light. Light. Jared quickly shed his suit jacket, tie, and button-down shirt, leaving them unceremoniously on the ground. In black slacks and a black tee shirt, he looked more like a resident than he ever did in his suit. When he thought his attire wouldn’t give him away, Jared pulled at the light of the sun within him, pushing it to shine through his face. He could feel the light ebbing through every one of his pores, and a cursory glance in a nearby darkened window let him know that the light was bright enough to obscure his features. His mouth set into a grim line, Jared began to move through the crowd.

He hoped his healing ability would be as strong as he needed it to be. He knew he could heal with the energy of the sun, as he had done so to himself, but he didn’t know if he would be able to sufficiently-heal anyone who had more than a cut. It was lucky for him, then, that the first resident he came across had much more than a cut. Jared had had his fair share of injuries in his day: thrill-seeking came with the built-in risk. It was the danger which had pulled him toward the adventuresome life. He remembered when a botched climbing trip had ended in a broken leg: he knew what the angle of the resident’s leg meant. Jared kneeled next to her, and put his hands gently on either side of the break. He remained silent, having no way to mask the sound of his voice, and he pushed, light emanating from his hands and passing over the leg. There was a warmth in his limbs that was comforting, and the ragged breaths of the resident became more even-toned, and while he had no clue what he was doing, he thought he was helping.

After a short while, Jared didn’t know if his light would do anything more. The leg no longer looked broken, but there were myriad cuts along her flesh which hadn’t been knitted together. Jared placed a hand on her shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze before heading out to do what else he could.

In a stark way, his silent journey through the mayhem reminded him of the job he already had: faceless to so many and unable to be thanked. And it was in that moment he realized that when he said he loved his job, he really loved his job. It was something that was placed on him, and he knew his uncle did it as a punishment of sorts. He had been active in all facets of his life, and he was suddenly told to remain still, in one place, and answer the whims of others instead of his own. And he was good at it. Really good at it. Needing thanks or recognition no more, he moved through the town doing whatever he could, where he could, and how he could. Just like this moment. Features masked and remaining voiceless, Jared still felt the fill of his worth. He didn’t need anyone to know what he could do. He just needed to be able to do for others what couldn’t be done for him.

He realized that he was far more okay than he realized.

When he healed, he couldn’t figure out how to heal all the way if someone had injuries that spanned more than cuts and sprains, but he could tell that he was making a difference. So he kept stopping, kept pushing more of his energy into his hands, over their skin, into the places within them that needed the most attention. He could feel his reserves tiring; he’d already healed himself, after all, but he knew he had some more to give.

Jared heard a noise next to him, and a scream, and instinct kicked in. A hand shot out, and with it a line of blue-hot fire and plasma separating two groups from each other. Jared slumped in surprise and exertion, realizing that he didn’t have much more of that – whatever it was – in him, resolving to save that only if it was truly necessary.

He stood within the din, and noticed Larissa and Adaline Van Pay on the other side of the square. They looked to be working in tandem, though he wasn’t exactly sure how. What he could see, despite the crack in his lenses and the remaining echoes of a headache, was the gray tinge to Larissa’s skin. Jared began wading through the crowd, giving a brief nod to Adaline who, in confusion, looked between him and Larissa with little trust and too much wariness. Jared didn’t have a way to reassure her, so he hoped she would allow him to help if he moved slowly enough. He kneeled by Larissa, too-warm hand brushing her cheek before placing his hand, palm-to-cheek, to her cheek, letting whatever he had left to flow into her.

[jaredxhawley]

( larissa ) : Seen ✓ ( jared ) : You viewed this two days ago.

[johnxrobins]

( @lcrissa​ ) « open starter call

Dazed, John rubbed his temple. Underneath the blow of having been hit in the head, he could still feel his typical headache. …He just had a layered… double headache on his hands. “I’m fine,” he said. “Just… got knocked around a little bit. I’ll be fine, thank you. Thanks for checking.”

[jaredxhawley]

( @lcrissa ) « starter call

His alarm went off all-too soon after a fitful night. –– Or, rather, part of a night. It was one-thirty in the morning, and Jared had been nervous all night for the alarm to go off. After all, it wasn’t every night that you took your girlfriend to your clandestine training session, right? Jared’s ability wasn’t something that often came up in conversation, and if it did, it was done so using vague, roundabout code words which cut the conversation in half. Three nights ago, when they had just been about to fall asleep, Jared had turned to Larissa and questioned, murmuring, if she’d want to come with him to his training session. He knew Larissa well enough to know it was likely that she would say YES, but that hasn’t stopped the hard, stony knot of tension from growing in his gut. He turned the alarm off, and rolled over, kissing Larissa’s temple to wake her up, assuming that she was all-too used to his alarm going off for training that she may sleep through it. “Lar, if you still want to come, I’ll be getting up now,” he murmured, voice still thick with sleep, bereft of that professional tightness that it had in the daytime.

[jaredxhawley]

( @lcrissa )

So, he was a little overdressed for the occasion. Okay… a lot overdressed. The suit didn’t have a designer stitched into the jacket –– it had his name, made to measure. Hell, he was even wearing contacts that night, his face free of anything that would put space between himself and the woman behind the door. …All he had to do was knock. 

Moving the bouquet of roses into his free hand, Jared leaned forward and knocked. When the door open, he sucked in a small breath, blinking. “You look. –– Wow.”

[jaredxhawley]

Jared reached over to grab the note that had been slid under his office door. He’d come back way too late to actually talk about it, but the handwritten invitation had had him smiling for an hour. “I got this note yesterday. It asked me to come to the dance.”