[ how long is this trickle of blood through the streets going to go on? in intervals it dwindles to being nearly invisible to the naked eye, yet stretches on for what feels like miles. there's no way anyone could left this could still be breathing, and genos fears the worst as he weaves through main streets, side roads, and back alleys.
there are no heroes, no villains in sight. eventually, he stops running into other people altogether, alone and deserted. this has high and low points: while it means he can press forward unobstructed, it also means there's no hope for help if he winds up encountering something grisly all on his lonesome. weighing the odds, he chooses to tackle it head on. in the worst case scenario, someone will be able to track him down and cart him off to dr. kuseno's laboratory. it's happened before, on more occasions than genos is willing to count.
but it's fine. nothing he can't handle. ]
... [ twenty minutes later, he's very wrong. he can't handle this cat, this confounded cat who continues getting in his way each time he tries to cross the threshold of an open door. it isn't deliberately blocking him so much as he trips forward every time he makes a valiant attempt to move. it flops down on the ground, rolls between his legs, rubs up against his ankles, demanding attention genos doesn't have the brightest idea of how to provide.
bizarrely, it reminds him of sonic, anyway. lazy, boisterous, careless sonic, who could kill you in your sleep as easily as he could leer over your shoulder, somehow convinced he's going to catch genos looking over something else pornographic one of these days. it's become a running joke of theirs.
after too long of a struggle to avoid the friendly feline, genos arrives inside of...well, wherever he is. the sun descended eons ago, and here in what he can only assume are the outskirts of z-city, there's little light to be seen save for a string of street lamps he passed quite a ways back. whoever's home this is doesn't seem to have considered the concept of light switches, or even lanterns. the problem this poses is temporary, but it's a problem all the same.
there's still blood here. it's messier now, greater in some places more than others. hesitant on where to go, he stakes out his entire surroundings first, heading to the nearest toilet after a quick process of elimination. not only does he find a light at last, but more pieces to the puzzle, as well: dirtied clothes, rust-colored stains over the sink...a purple scarf?
no. it's a coincidence. sheer coincidence.
he won't believe it until he nearly trips yet again, this time not over a cat, but a bundle of a body on the floor. genos's sensors indicate it's moving, it's breathing, alive, though just barely.
he won't believe it until seeing it. seeing sonic, this man faster than the speed of sound, futilely bleeding through his futon and onto the floorboards. dozens of possibilities littered genos's mind while they were apart. this, however, was not one of them.
who did it? where are they now? is it too late to smash them into a pulp? there's no logic behind the jealousy coursing through his circuits, the mindless surge to protect, the desire for revenge. he's all too familiar with these feelings, and equally familiar with shoving them down while there's work to do.
he's going to have to act quickly. it's too late to rush to the nearest hospital, too late to cry for help. sonic will die long before they get there. he'll have to put his experience to good use, even if he's far more used to repairing machinery than he is for a living, breathing, full-fledged human being. ]
no subject
there are no heroes, no villains in sight. eventually, he stops running into other people altogether, alone and deserted. this has high and low points: while it means he can press forward unobstructed, it also means there's no hope for help if he winds up encountering something grisly all on his lonesome. weighing the odds, he chooses to tackle it head on. in the worst case scenario, someone will be able to track him down and cart him off to dr. kuseno's laboratory. it's happened before, on more occasions than genos is willing to count.
but it's fine. nothing he can't handle. ]
... [ twenty minutes later, he's very wrong. he can't handle this cat, this confounded cat who continues getting in his way each time he tries to cross the threshold of an open door. it isn't deliberately blocking him so much as he trips forward every time he makes a valiant attempt to move. it flops down on the ground, rolls between his legs, rubs up against his ankles, demanding attention genos doesn't have the brightest idea of how to provide.
bizarrely, it reminds him of sonic, anyway. lazy, boisterous, careless sonic, who could kill you in your sleep as easily as he could leer over your shoulder, somehow convinced he's going to catch genos looking over something else pornographic one of these days. it's become a running joke of theirs.
after too long of a struggle to avoid the friendly feline, genos arrives inside of...well, wherever he is. the sun descended eons ago, and here in what he can only assume are the outskirts of z-city, there's little light to be seen save for a string of street lamps he passed quite a ways back. whoever's home this is doesn't seem to have considered the concept of light switches, or even lanterns. the problem this poses is temporary, but it's a problem all the same.
there's still blood here. it's messier now, greater in some places more than others. hesitant on where to go, he stakes out his entire surroundings first, heading to the nearest toilet after a quick process of elimination. not only does he find a light at last, but more pieces to the puzzle, as well: dirtied clothes, rust-colored stains over the sink...a purple scarf?
no. it's a coincidence. sheer coincidence.
he won't believe it until he nearly trips yet again, this time not over a cat, but a bundle of a body on the floor. genos's sensors indicate it's moving, it's breathing, alive, though just barely.
he won't believe it until seeing it. seeing sonic, this man faster than the speed of sound, futilely bleeding through his futon and onto the floorboards. dozens of possibilities littered genos's mind while they were apart. this, however, was not one of them.
who did it? where are they now? is it too late to smash them into a pulp? there's no logic behind the jealousy coursing through his circuits, the mindless surge to protect, the desire for revenge. he's all too familiar with these feelings, and equally familiar with shoving them down while there's work to do.
he's going to have to act quickly. it's too late to rush to the nearest hospital, too late to cry for help. sonic will die long before they get there. he'll have to put his experience to good use, even if he's far more used to repairing machinery than he is for a living, breathing, full-fledged human being. ]