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the picture prompt meme

1. comment with your character.
2. others will leave a picture (or two, or three...)
( 2a. if you like, link a visualosities post in your top level comment to give people material to work with! )
3. reply to them with a setting based on the picture.
4. for an idea of how this works, see bakerstreet, which is where i stole this meme from!
5. THIS IS A SLOW BURNING MEME IF YOU SAY YOU'RE LATE I'LL SLOW BURN YOUR HOUSE DOWN

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[ Before he hears her voice he's on the ground again, searching fruitlessly in the dark for something that refuses to be found. The pavement is cold and his knees land in puddles, wracking him with shivers he barely is aware of. Rain streaks his face like tears, but at least it washes the blood away.

But the broken silence is sharp, it cracks at his attention like a whip. ]

What?

[ He looks at her, straight at her, his hair limply drenched and clinging against his face. But it's not a voice from above, or from within, it's Danger, and she doesn't hold the sway over his decisions that the coin would. ]

I can't do this, Danger.

[ she stares back, her eyes unwavering. her face betrays nothing, except the way she frowns a little at what he says to her. she could just observe-- she's always been an effective spectator, disinclined to interfere when it would fail to produce a practical benefit.

but at length, danger closes distance, something vaguely impatient in her tone when she crouches near him, reaching for him. ]

Stop this, Harvey.

I can't. I can't, I can't...

[ He reaches for her with one hand, lowering his head so that it hangs facing the wet ground. The way shivers keep trembling his body almost resembles sobs, but his breath is quiet, his face restrained -- more or less -- when he looks back up at her. There's distress written on it, but it's of a calm and resigned sort. ]

I can't leave until I find it. I-- [ Because it would be the coin that told him, stay or go. ] What should I do?

[ her hand pauses in the air midway between them, like she hadn't expected him to reach back and the gesture-- the human quality of it, maybe-- confuses her a little. she eyes him a moment before finally grasping him by the wrist, her grip firm and solid, but not cruel. she can feel his pulse under her palm. ]

Be calm.

[ He blinks at her, not moving yet, though something in his expression does change. Just a flicker of relief, as his agitation lessens. Quietly, he glances away from her and says: ]

Help me up.

[ she doesn't comply immediately-- considering it, maybe, before she finally straightens, rising and pulling him up with her. but she doesn't let go immediately afterward either, like she thinks she can trust him more when she has one hand securely on him.

it's more out of a practical desire to understand the situation she's in than any personal concern when she asks: ]

How do you feel?

Disconnected.

[ He wobbles on his feet briefly before he manages to steady himself, looking at her under the wisps of wet hair clinging to his face. He shakes his head, holding out one of his open palms. ]

I can't hear anything.

[ her blank eyes move from his face to that open palm, then back again. she's unreadable, as she often is, only blinking the rain from her eyelashes. her grip stays steady on his arm.

she eyes him a long moment, suspicious still or maybe just curious. but the word he used-- disconnected-- she seems to identify with it somehow, because the moment passes, and she lets go. ]

You cannot hear anything. [ she echoes him. ] I am undecided if this is positive or negative.

It's--

I don't... know. Both. [ He shakes his head, holding it with one hand. ] You don't understand. I need him. We need each other. There are problems, when...

[ And he puts his hand down again, jerking away from her a little frantically before he stares around at the ground again. ]

I need to find it or I don't know what will happen.

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