Topic: Fight The Good Fight

Last Knight

Date: 2008-02-12 05:23 EST
The watchman stopped on his rounds and looked up at the apartment door. The place didn't look like much, but then, he wasn't expecting much. He checked the address again, dug a piece of parchment out of his pocket, held it up. The numbers matched. He looked around the neighborhood and shook his head, then looked back up at the door. He didn't bother knocking - if she was home, she'd find it when she went out again. If she was out, she'd find it when she got home. Either way, his work here was done. He set the duffel bag down on the steps and rummaged in his coat until he found the veil - a minor enchantment he'd purchased for a song from that gray-robed wizard with the pixie problem, something that would keep anyone but the intended recipient from noticing a certain bright orange duffel bag sitting right out in the open. He whispered her name, and the bag faded from his sight.

He nodded firmly, looked up at the place again, and walked away whistling, hands tucked in the pockets of his long black coat, silver badge glinting in the lantern light. It wasn't like he owed her anything. To tell the truth, though, anyone who took the time to dig a bullet out a stranger's shoulder - on a barroom floor, no less - was alright in his book, and he made it a point to try to help out all those little lights against the darkness.

He figured a level three trauma kit - and a little black bag filled with vials of morphine, codeine, and advanced painkillers with names so complicated he wasn't even about to pronounce them - just might help this little light shine a little brighter.

Luna Eva

Date: 2008-02-13 02:09 EST
As dangerous as the Marketplace could be, Eva rarely feared for her safety. Once word had circulated that she was a street doctor, willing to fix anyone up for a price, she was pretty much immune to the dangers of the city. After all, why hurt the one person who would be willing to help you if you get hurt?

Still, in the Marketplace, an unexpected package at the door was hardly welcome. Eva approached the orange duffel on her doorstep cautiously. With the toe of her boot she nudged it, and, once satisfied that no blood was leaking from it, she picked it up, and carried it inside.

She settled at the bottom of the stairs with the bag, still unwilling to take it up to her apartment proper, and pulled the zipper down. As soon as she saw what was inside, the level three trauma kit, she knew who it was from. Paladin. A smile came to her lips.

It was a good gift. She didn't really need the things provided, she had their equal in stock just up the stairs. But getting them as a gift, well it tickled her, like getting flowers would tickle a normal woman. She didn't think he was trying to court her, but it made her smile all the same.

Then the smile quickly faded. He was a member of the City Watch. That would be her luck. At least Tucker was just a farmer, a carpenter. Eva shook her head, leaning back on the stairs, and sighed. She couldn't accept the gift. He obviously thought he was giving it to a good person, a person who fell in line with his goals as a member of the Watch. That just wasn't her.

But if she gave it back, she'd have to tell him why. And then he'd know what she did for a living. And, being a member of the Watch, theoretically he could try to catch her, and arrest her. Practicing medicine without a license.

Eva sighed and pushed a hand through her hair as she got to her feet. Beautiful. She'd have to keep it. Keep up appearances. Eva picked up the duffel and carried it up the stairs. With every step she stomped harder and harder on the stairs, dropping the bag at the top with a thud that echoed in the stairwell.

At the top of the stairs Eva looked at her small apartment and then up at the ceiling and shouted. "I hate my life!"