glowing_skye: (blank stare)
Ema Skye ([personal profile] glowing_skye) wrote2010-10-27 08:13 pm
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~twenty-six~ [action post!]

[Ema died.

It was a horror of fire and destruction as the hazmat-suited men tore through the house, setting things aflame and cutting down anyone who got too close. Ema made it a point to put herself between the hazmats and the children of the home--Crowe and Ash especially--but all that earned her was an ax to the point where her neck meets her shoulder, followed quickly with being set on fire. Her death was not immediate and in the end it was rather futile; everyone else died, too.

It is with this memory fresh in her mind that Ema wakes up the following morning, face-to-face with Schuldig. Someone else is asleep in the bed behind her.

Acting entirely on instinct, Ema screams.]

((ooc: Ema will be hitting the phones later, but for now she has to deal with the fact that her home is currently filled with the Schuldig's peeps. LUCKY HER.))

[identity profile] 2010-10-28 04:39 am (UTC)(link)
[It would be really, really nice if it could be said that Schuldig had never woken up beside a woman screaming before. Of course the obvious joke about regret is there waiting to be made, except that when it comes to Schuldig and regret, there's nothing funny about it. He is a master of guilt - of telepathically goading women (and occasionally men, if an irresistible chance happened to present itself or the pickings were slim) into his bed in the full knowledge that they'd wake up to a nightmare of horror and self-recriminations in the morning. Innocent fiancées, homophobic men, faithful and upstanding lovers, grieving widowers, siblings...anyone who would wake up to their lives and carefully constructed moral fiber unraveling around them. To him, that's often vastly more enjoyable than any of the activities leading up to it.

Schuldig, too, acts on instinct - a hand lashes out, clamping over her mouth as casually as someone slapping a snooze button. He doesn't even open his eyes.]
Shut it.

[It's going to take him a few moments to wake up enough to realize that there shouldn't be a woman screaming in his bed today, and actually question things.]

[identity profile] 2010-10-28 05:43 am (UTC)(link)
[Of all the things Schuldig could have done, consciously or not, covering her mouth with his hand was one of the worst as far as Ema was concerned. All it manages to do is send her into a greater panic, and her top priority becomes getting the hell out of that bed. Prying Shuldig's hand away from her face and trying to disentangle herself from the two men, Ema flails and scrambles to the foot of the bed, thoroughly disturbing its other occupants before gracelessly falling off of it and onto the floor. The entire time, she's practically hyperventilating.

Once she hits the floor, however, she groans softly in pain and stays still for a few moments, cursing her recent death and her life beyond it.]

[identity profile] 2010-10-28 05:55 am (UTC)(link)
[Schuldig's telepathic response to Crawford is a wordless telepathic grumble - which turns audible and even crankier when Ema flails all over himself and Crawford in her rush to get out of bed. He lifts his head as she thuds to the floor to regard her briefly, then drops it back onto his pillow, closing his eyes again.] Dealt with.

[He stays that way for a few moments before things start clicking together in his head and he realizes that he definitely did not go to sleep pressed up against Ema, of all people. Maybe Crawford, but Schuldig is a heat leech and Crawford was too asleep to protest. This prompts him to lift his head again and give Ema an irritated glare, as though this were all her fault. Which, as far as he's concerned, it somehow is.] What the hell were you doing in my bed? [Note the possessive.]

[identity profile] 2010-10-28 06:19 am (UTC)(link)

There's no reason that conversation can't happen after someone's put coffee on.

[identity profile] 2010-10-28 06:27 am (UTC)(link)
[As Schuldig slowly realizes what's going on, Ema pulls herself to a seated position on the floor. She's still too shaken to do much else. By the time he's fully awake and glaring at her, she manages to glare back.

The possessive is noticed, but only in passing. It's been his bed since he arrived; Ema usually sleeps on the couch downstairs if she's home.]

I didn't want to be in bed with you! I died last night and just woke up here.... [The way she trails off indicates that she really doesn't want to talk about how. She's pulled together enough to shout back at Schuldig, but that's not really saying much; it's easy to default to irritation rather than deal with the fact that she's still plenty shell-shocked from the ordeal.]

[identity profile] 2010-10-28 06:37 am (UTC)(link)
[That does explain a lot. Schuldig had forgotten that people who die resurrect in their homes, and in their beds, or at least that was very much the case when he died. And, with that mystery solved, Schuldig loses interest in the conversation, dropping back to the pillow again. Even Ema's emotional distress will have to wait to be savored until he's awoken more fully.

Crawford's suggestion is a good one, though.]
Coffee. Go.

[identity profile] 2010-10-28 07:05 am (UTC)(link)
[Ema really wants to tell Schuldig where he can shove the coffeepot, but she knows better. He still has her scared pretty straight, and making coffee is most definitely not the issue she wants to incur his wrath over.

So, slowly, she pulls herself off the floor and trudges downstairs to prepare a pot of coffee, all the while reminding herself that the coffee will be good for her to have, too. Mundane routine is good to have after trauma; morning coffee fits the bill.

She manages to get the coffee brewed after only dropping a few things due to her shaking hands (thankfully, the coffee pot is not among them). She pours herself a mug and adds creamer and sugar before calling up the stairs:]
The coffee's ready!

[She doesn't intend on making a delivery. That done, she curls up in a chair with the coffee and sips it slowly, trying her best not to think of the previous night. She fails miserably.

She should call the house later, see how the family she died with is holding up. God, especially the ten-year-old, Ash; there's no reason why he should have been put through that. Klavier, too; if he realized what happened to her, he was probably a wreck yesterday. She has to let him know that she's all right and make sure that he is, too. And it probably wouldn't hurt to take to the phones and just listen in to find out what's going on now--who else has died? Has anyone gotten a hold of Smirnov? Has anyone turned him in, or is everyone still trying to protect him? Ema hated to think it, but it was better that they give him up at this point. Otherwise, there could be no tomorrow for them all.

If Schuldig and/or Crawford come(s) downstairs, he/they will find her hunched over from the weight of her own thoughts.]

[identity profile] 2010-10-29 09:41 pm (UTC)(link)
[Schuldig chuckles - a low, throaty laugh that Crawford can hear normally and Ema will hear echoed in her head.] Good girl.

[He's in no real hurry to get up until he hears Ema's call that the coffee is ready, at which point he slides out of bed. It's tempting not to dress just to irritate Ema, Sanae, and Crawford, and no doubt delight Joshua - that's a quadruple troll score - but that would mean having to listen to their complaints before he's got caffeine in him, and that is simply unacceptable.

So he puts on pants. It's a compromise.]


[identity profile] 2010-11-07 02:53 pm (UTC)(link)

Well-trained, when she isn't screaming.

[identity profile] 2010-11-08 12:12 am (UTC)(link)
[Schuldig shoots him a rather wicked sidelong grin.] What can I say? I've got a way with women.

[He stretches languidly, studying Crawford's outfit and his care in adjusting it with the comfortable contempt of familiarity.] Shall we?

[identity profile] 2010-11-08 02:33 am (UTC)(link)
Joshua's friend is downstairs with Ema. Beyond that...I can't tell. [He pauses.] Neither he or Joshua are human, you know. I can barely pick anything up from them.

[identity profile] 2010-11-08 05:15 am (UTC)(link)
What a satisfying little challenge for you, then. []

[identity profile] 2010-11-09 03:34 am (UTC)(link)
[OOC: And jumping down to Ema and Sanae's thread~]

[identity profile] 2010-10-30 05:46 am (UTC)(link)
[ THIS TAG ISN'T LATE, HI. Any of them are free to come across a rather battered-looking hipster in their house, leaning on the wall for support and trying to make his way to the bathroom as silently as possible. He just wants to clean up; there's quite a bit of dried blood on his face, some pretty nasty burns on his legs, and the guy's clothes are decently shredded, so he probably looks completely terrifying to anyone unused to violence. To those who've seen worse, well, he just looks like a wreck. A fairly trollable one, with how much pain can weaken his patience.

The family's two 'visitors' passed out on the couch pretty much as soon as they got there, and getting fixed up isn't too easy when it means walking on serious burns. ]

Sorry it took me a MILLION YEARS to tag back! ;;

[identity profile] 2010-11-05 08:04 pm (UTC)(link)
[Ema, of course, hears the movement and looks up to find a man covered in burns and his own blood. She's seen violence before--hard not to, when working as a homicide detective--but seeing him in such a state makes her incredibly uneasy, especially after the way in which she was killed not even twenty-four hours prior.

She doesn't know the man, but that detail doesn't matter. She hops to her feet and crosses to him.]
They got to you too? [No sense in asking what happened. She knows.] How they hell did you survive?

Come on, you need medical attention. I have some stuff I've taken from the hospital...

No problem! \o/

[identity profile] 2010-11-05 11:04 pm (UTC)(link)
[ He startles when he realizes someone else is in the room. Ema gets a moment of blank staring, and then a weak smile that almost looks more like a grimace, given all the blood on his face. None of the cuts are deep or dangerous, but they sure do bleed a lot.

As for surviving, well, being an angel tends to help. It's a good thing hazmats can't fly. ]

A friend helped get me out in one piece. My son's here, too -- sorry, are you a friend a' Schuldig's?

[ His voice is rough, throat still raw from the gas. ]

Re: No problem! \o/

[identity profile] 2010-11-06 01:09 am (UTC)(link)
[Ema hesitates at the question, but only slightly.] Not really. I'm the 'wife' of the household. I just... got back in this morning.

[No need to elaborate why or how. Dying was bad enough, waking up in bed with Schuldig and Crawford was worse. She has no desire to relive any of that as long as she can avoid it.]

Is your son in the same condition as you?

[identity profile] 2010-11-06 05:36 pm (UTC)(link)
Well, I'm sure glad you did.

[ The weak smile becomes a weak laugh, and he puts a bit more weight on the wall. ]

Joshua got off lighter. Think he might have some burns, but nothing bad. And no blood. ...the windshield exploded, see.

[identity profile] 2010-11-06 06:28 pm (UTC)(link)
The windshield exploded?!

[How the hell did he live through all that? Well, no matter--priority number one is to fix him up.]

Wait here, I'll go get the medical kit. We'll take care of you, then get a look at him.

[identity profile] 2010-11-06 07:49 pm (UTC)(link)
Well, not-- there was fire, yeah, but mostly it just... shattered. No burns on my face, and all. The flamethrowers didn't...

[ Well, she gets the idea. The man is just glad he's got such good fighters for friends. Without the powers, they would've been screwed.

He sags against the wall further, trying to find the right words. ]

Thanks. A lot.

[ That's close enough. ]

[identity profile] 2010-11-06 08:12 pm (UTC)(link)
[She gets the idea. She's just glad he survived the ordeal, really, even though she doesn't even know his name yet.

She gives him a nod and goes to get her medical supplies. Working as a nurse has its benefits. When she returns, she turns on all of the lights in the room so she can see better.]

This will be easier if you take a seat.

[identity profile] 2010-11-09 03:34 am (UTC)(link)
[Schuldig saunters in ahead of Crawford, casting an amused eye over Sanae. His condition is no surprise; Sanae and Joshua's minds aren't exactly open to him, but Ema's is, so he still had forewarning.] You really are a mess. [As Schuldig isn't exactly the most sympathetic of men, this is said in the spirit of casual observation.]

[identity profile] 2010-11-09 04:09 am (UTC)(link)
Behave when there's company.


[identity profile] 2010-11-09 07:54 am (UTC)(link)
[ He takes note of the bluntness from the both of them, but isn't particularly surprised or ruffled by it. Hanekoma's worked with his share of sociopaths and people used to violence, and he's developed a sort of resigned distaste by now -- Ema gets another brief but grateful half-smile and he manages to get himself sitting down. ]

Mm. Can I have some a' that coffee, boss?

[identity profile] 2010-11-09 08:41 am (UTC)(link)
[Ema turns and looks at the newly-arrived pair, frowning a little but not really saying anything; she's not really in any kind of position to do much of anything, not to mention she's still shaken from her own recent death, so it is far better that she just ignore their presence. Instead, she keeps her focus on Sanae, returning his half-smile with one of her own as she pulls on a pair of gloves. It's easier to deal with everything if she gives him her full attention so that her mind can't wander to the night before.]

Let me get your face cleaned up before we start talking coffee. [She starts dabbing at his face gently with a damp cloth to clean up what blood has dried on his skin, careful not to tear open any scabs. She'll then hit up any abrasions with a bit of rubbing alcohol before applying bandages, if necessary.]

[identity profile] 2010-11-10 07:06 am (UTC)(link)
[Crawford's comment earns an eye roll from Schuldig, but for all Schuldig's minor insubordination and trolling, Crawford's authority in Schwarz is an established fact. So he doesn't actually bitch back, and he doesn't move for the coffee until Crawford's gotten his own cup and stepped away. Ema may not read anything into this, but Sanae might have more experience in troll dynamics to pick up on something.] You haven't met Sanae, have you, Crawford?

[identity profile] 2010-11-10 06:10 pm (UTC)(link)

I can't say I have. A pleasure, I'm sure, circumstances aside.

[identity profile] 2010-11-11 06:39 am (UTC)(link)
[ No bandages necessary for his face, but the same can't be said for his legs, which are burnt just badly enough to hurt like hell. He's a bit distracted by the pain and the cloth against his face, so that little tidbit goes relatively unnoticed, though he might be able to look back on it later.

The rubbing alcohol gets a little hiss, but he manages to meet Crawford's eyes around the cloth. ]

Pleasure's all mine. The shelter's more than appreciated, I gotta say.

[identity profile] 2010-11-13 03:24 pm (UTC)(link)
[Ema continues tending to Sanae's face while the introductions and coffee-getting go on. It doesn't really concern her, so she doesn't give it a whole lot of attention.

Once his face is cleaned up and treated to her satisfaction, she looks down at his legs and frowns. That's going to be significantly worse to deal with. Still, it needs to be done, so she takes her supplies and kneels on the floor at his feet, starting by carefully cutting apart remains of cloth that are in her way.]