forum Remember Me // Superhero One-on-One // Stalkers Welcome

Started May 16, 2019 by @WriteOutofTime

tune

It was late at night the next day when James opened his eyes again. The room he was in was dark and unfamiliar, but a comfy couch hugged his body. Despite his comfort (and the slight throbbing of his wounds), he still felt fear as he made himself sit up. He squinted into the darkness after a soft groan of pain, knitting his eyebrows together to try and stop the room from waving in front of his eyes.
"Hello?" He finally called out tiredly, his voice coming out as a rasp. How long had he been asleep? Had the world ended yet?

Nyir had been watching Ior like a hawk for the better of five hours, a whiskey glass in her hand, condensation drifting down the side. It was nearly 3:00 am before he finally began to awaken. He stirred, groaning, calling out into the darkness. Nyir placed her glass on the coffee table, her eyes narrowing.

"Don't move around too much," she said in a low voice, trying to be comforting. "You'll tear your stitches. Here." She offered him a glass of water, double-checking to make sure it wasn't whiskey.

James jumped visibly as she startled him, and he hit his chest with a gasp. He looked to the speaker: Chaser! Why had she saved him? He could only assume by the glass of water and the comfy home he was in that she did so. The woman looked haughty and tired, yet he still found a certain distrust in her. However, he reached out to slowly accept the glass.

"Okay… why-why did you save me?" He nervously messed with the water in the cup, making it jump merrily and slosh back down.

Nyir leaned back, forcing her body language to appear at ease, even though she was ready to jump at a moment's notice. She shrugged, her eyes drifting towards the ceiling and then back at his bruised and battered face. "You looked like a pathetic mess. What the hell happened to you, anyway?"

James took a sip of the water once he noticed he was actually thirsty, then set it down on his knee for resting, the water still jumping around.
"I don't know," He responded, trying not to sound stupid. "I was just standing on the roof of the apartment complex of which I live and suddenly I got pushed. I guess I landed on like, bottles or something."

"Well, are you sure you were pushed?" she queried, lifting an eyebrow. "You don't seem sure of much."

"Well it's cus I'm not sure. I don't know if I was pushed." He shrugged, taking another drink of his water and setting it back down. "Why am I all wet?" He looked down at his shirt in confusion.

Nyir's mouth twisted. "It rained," she replied shortly, ringing out the ends of her own damp hair as proof.

"Oh. Well… that sucks." He looked down at the dancing water in the cup, then back up at her. "Who am I, exactly? Why is this water jumping? It doesn't usually do that, does it?"

Nyir froze, realizing how dazed he looked. How severly was he concussed? Had it caused him to lose some long term memory? "I…I don't know your real name. You're called Ior."

Her mind took a second to register the water comment. "And, um, you likely have a concussion, which may make you a bit dizzy."

"That's a silly name," James chuckled softly, setting the cup down away from him. The jumping water was quite distracting. "So who are you, exactly?" He looked back up at her with a smile. "You are quite pretty. Jut saying. You look like you can clean up very well."

Maybe it was the whiskey, or the lateness of the hour, or the sheer ridiculousness of the situation, but somehow the comment caught her off guard. She hadn't been called pretty in a long time, other than the random catcalls drunk old men called at her while she patrolled. She almost smiled, and then immediately frowned. "My name is Chaser. You don't remember your real name?" she questioned in a hard voice. "What do you remember?"

James grinned goofily at her, his head tilted just the slightest bit as his droopy eyes stared right through her face. He didn't even seem to be focused anymore.
"Mmm. Chaser. That doesn't sound like a real name. Whatschur real name?" He asked, his eyes barely focusing again. His lack of a response to the last two of her questions shone a light to how much he remembered.

"My real name is none of your concern," she responded in a monotone. His sloppy smile and unfocused eyes were beginning to concern her. What if he was this loopy from all the blood loss? Or a really terrible concussion? "Though I am becoming increasingly interested in your name. I need to return you to whoever you belong to."

"I don't think I belong to anybody." He laid back slowly, grinning up at the ceiling stupidly. "I'm my own man." He added a faint giggle, curling his hands up into his chest with a hazy sigh. "I don't think I have a name. I'm just man now. I like that. Man. It's good. I think I'll go with that."