Conan Edogawa | Shinichi Kudou (
1_truth) wrote in
mayfield_rpg2012-08-12 08:58 pm
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Entry tags:
Case: 021
{{ →!Action - 1449 Mitchell Road | Late in the Night }}
[ Conan isn't thinking straight. All he wants is to get off the street and find a phone. He needs to find a phone before he passes out and Gin catches up with him. He has no idea what setting his shoes had been on but at the moment he didn't really care. He was free! He'd escaped. Again. He stumbles all over the sidewalk and at one point even falls to his hands and knees-Or in his case forearms and knees as his hands are still tightly bound by cables. The sudden impact blurs his vision worse and sends a very unpleasant jolt up the injured shoulder. ]
[ He takes a few breaths and wills himself to push on, moving back to his feet and going a little farther before tripping and falling foreword again. This is never going to work. He's never going to make it back home. But damn it, he doesn't have a cell phone so it's not like-wait. Maybe-maybe he could borrow someone else's phone? If he's remembering correctly Mayfield doesn't have a shortage of them. ]
[ Somehow, by some miracle stroke of luck he manages to find a house and break the window before climbing inside-gaining a few extra cuts as he does. Conan doesn't seem to notice however, as he just lets himself fall heavily onto the floor, landing on the broken glass and just taking a moment to breathe. ]
[ Gotta get to the phone. Gotta get to the phone. A few more step Kudo. You can do this. With a mighty effort he gets to his feet, ignoring the glass shards he'd landed on and pushing himself to the phone-most phones were-were-Aha! ]
[ His hand tightens around the phone and stares down at the blurry numbers. H-how did you filter these things again? W-was it-? ]
{{ →!Phone (Probably a failed filter to Sherlock) | Late in the Night }}
[ At first there's nothing but heavy breathing-like someone fighting to stay conscious. ]
C-Can you... [ another breath ] ...can you c-come get me...?
[ Conan isn't thinking straight. All he wants is to get off the street and find a phone. He needs to find a phone before he passes out and Gin catches up with him. He has no idea what setting his shoes had been on but at the moment he didn't really care. He was free! He'd escaped. Again. He stumbles all over the sidewalk and at one point even falls to his hands and knees-Or in his case forearms and knees as his hands are still tightly bound by cables. The sudden impact blurs his vision worse and sends a very unpleasant jolt up the injured shoulder. ]
[ He takes a few breaths and wills himself to push on, moving back to his feet and going a little farther before tripping and falling foreword again. This is never going to work. He's never going to make it back home. But damn it, he doesn't have a cell phone so it's not like-wait. Maybe-maybe he could borrow someone else's phone? If he's remembering correctly Mayfield doesn't have a shortage of them. ]
[ Somehow, by some miracle stroke of luck he manages to find a house and break the window before climbing inside-gaining a few extra cuts as he does. Conan doesn't seem to notice however, as he just lets himself fall heavily onto the floor, landing on the broken glass and just taking a moment to breathe. ]
[ Gotta get to the phone. Gotta get to the phone. A few more step Kudo. You can do this. With a mighty effort he gets to his feet, ignoring the glass shards he'd landed on and pushing himself to the phone-most phones were-were-Aha! ]
[ His hand tightens around the phone and stares down at the blurry numbers. H-how did you filter these things again? W-was it-? ]
{{ →!Phone (Probably a failed filter to Sherlock) | Late in the Night }}
[ At first there's nothing but heavy breathing-like someone fighting to stay conscious. ]
C-Can you... [ another breath ] ...can you c-come get me...?
Action!
: Action!
[ He's far too weak to be startled and only looks over in the direction the noise came from, his vision just a little too blurred to make out his face. ]
I-I'm...I'm...
no subject
no subject
N-not... dying...
no subject
no subject
[ Obviously, he can't tell anyone the truth. If he did he can't be sure they wouldn't try and confront Gin and then end up as just another victim of the black organization. So what's a goo excuse that might be believable? ]
F-fell..
[ A fall down the stairs might explain the dislocated shoulder and broken ribs. It does not explain why he broke into someone's house to use the phone and it certainly doesn't explain why he's still got cables wrapped around his hands and blisters to suggest he's spent a good while struggling against those cables. ]
no subject
no subject
I-I need-rest...
no subject
no subject
N-no... too-too warm... [ After getting trapped in a freezer all day he's feeling more than a little warm. He would have removed his blazer but his dislocated shoulder and broken ribs demand he not move too much. ]
no subject
no subject
no subject
[Phone]
Hello? Who is this?
[He doesn't quite recognize the voice.]
[Phone]
[ ..Why is that such a complicated question? ]
C-Conan
Re: [Phone]
Conan! What's happened? Where are you?
[Phone]
C-can't remember... [ It isn't so much that he can't remember as it is that he'd have never been able to make out the street signs, much less the house numbers. ]
[ But that's all very unhelpful so there must be someway to describe where he is. Think Kudo! What was that place? What had he kicked again? Something frozen. The room was cold-this room is really warm... ]
Broke-broke a window... n-nearby the-[ The what? What kind of places would have a freezer in them? It was a morgue. That was-that frozen meat! ] ...B-butchers.
Re: [Phone]
Are you hurt?
[Phone]
[ He knows there's a whole list of injuries but he doesn't have either the energy or strength to try and list them all. ]
Re: [Phone] ---> [Action]
All right. Keep calm, I'm on my way.
[With that Sherlock hung up. Luckily, he had spent some time memorizing the layout of Mayfield - it wasn't like there were a lot of other things to do. He gathered a first aid kit, and some warm blankets - for shock - and got into the car. He drove to the butchers first, then looked around for a broken window. He finally found his way to 1449 Mitchell Road. He carefully climbed through the window. In a loud whisper, he called out.]
Conan?
[Phone] ---> [Action]
H-here...
[ He's trying to keep his breathing shallow as to not disturb his ribs and his left shoulder is hanging somewhat awkwardly. His hands and wrists have been rubbed raw, probably from struggling against the cables still wrapped tightly around them. ]
[Action]
[He takes the blanket from around his shoulders and wraps it around Conan.]
We'll have to take you to hospital. I'm n-not John. I... It must be hospital for you.
Re: [Action]
N-no... That's-that's... H-he'll look... F-first...
Re: [Action]
Conan, I can't take care of this. I'm not a doctor.
Re: [Action]
[ If he could think straight then he might have seen there wasn't really any other option. But all he can think about is how easily the organization infiltrated a hospital before and since this is Mayfield it is highly unlikely he could be signed in with a different name. ]
Re: [Action]
Who did this to you?
[Sherlock was making his way to the front door - it was the closest to the car.]
[Action]
G-Gin...
Re: [Action]
I told you not to go after him!
[Sherlock is annoyed and worried, so he more shouted that than said it. And that solidified Sherlock's mind. They had no choice but to go to hospital.]
Re: [Action]
Re: [Action]
[It was spoken softly, but clearly an order. Sherlock made sure that Conan was properly covered and as secure as he could in the back seat. Then he climbed into the front seat and drove the care to hospital.]
[Once they get there, he again gently picks Conan up.]
You will be checked in under my name, since I am responsible for you. If they'll let me, I will use my brother's name for you to try to earn as much protection for you as I can, all right?
[Action]
[ Instead of saying anything, he just nods. ]
[phone]
Where are you?
[phone]
I-I don't...don't know.
[phone]
[phone]
[ Can he figure out where he is? He's not sure-he still can't really think straight and his mind is only offering limited pieces of information. How did he get in here again? ]
Th-the window... I-I broke it...