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[Hospital? Down the street is a late night deli that does the best meatball sandwiches. And someone has just stepped out with a huge order of meatball sandwiches for her bosses when she steps right into his running path, vision blocked by large brown paper bag]

[ One of these days he's going to push things too far. One of these days he's going to get caught and thrown in jail, and he won't be able to plead anything other than insanity, or 'mutant', both of which won't work in his favor, really.

But today is not that day.

Ace's pace is quick - not quite fast enough to draw too much attention, but fast enough to get him away from here, before anyone realizes that he's been there at all. He's got his soiled sweater half-way over his head, arms stretched up high as he tries to tug the material up and off, momentarily blinded. He's unfocused, adrenaline still pumping - he feels like he's vibrating -, and he doesn't hear the chime of a store bell in time.

He crashes into her full-force, just as he manages to get his sweater off over his head, swearing sharply for... too many reasons. Out of instinct, he drops the soiled sweater and his arms dart out in an attempt to keep her from falling. ]

Shit. I am so--

[ So what, Ace? Sorry? Fucked? Probably.

He may have removed the sweater, but the shirt underneath is just as red, if not worse off. ]

Edited (html) 2015-03-22 06:32 (UTC)

[Was that a brick wall that hit her? Had to have been from the force of it. She opens her mouth, ready to tell him off when he catches her and Darcy is clutching Jane's dinner in surprise when the impact of concrete doesn't meet her right away.]

[She tries to peer around the bag]

So what? The next word out of your mouth better be sorry!

[But she feels something wet, distinctly sticky, and warm against the back of her hands from where it's pressed against him. Wait, what's that smell? She knows that smell. That's the sick smell of--]

Shit.

[She catches a glimpse of the red of his shirt under the neon lights of the store. Darcy looks up at him, then at the red stains again, still in shock at what she was seeing.]

That's definitely not marinara sauce.

[ Ace swallows hard and immediately lets go of her, jaw tensing, and then relaxing, and then tensing again. This is literally the worst thing that could be happening right now (alright, the second worst thing, but), and he has half the mind to just... run. Get the hell out of there and hope that she hasn't taken a good look at his face.

But he can feel her knuckles pressed against his torso and he knows it's too late for that. His blood is on her hands, for Christ's sake.

Exhaling shakily, because he has no fucking clue what to do now, he takes a step back, dilated eyes flickering between the woman he's just crashed into (and unintentionally involved in his fucked up agenda) and the storefront they're standing outside of. He tries to think of something to say, anything, his hands hovering in front of his chest with his fingers splayed, almost defensively. His palms are smeared red as well... which probably doesn't help at all. ]

No, it's-- yes, it's-- it's marinara--!

Bullshit that's marinara.

[She twists around to pull her cell phone out as she juggles the sandwiches in her bag.]

Dude, you're hurt. You should be in a hospital.

[She sees his dilated eyes, the fear on his face]

...is someone after you?

[ He knew that blaming the marinara wasn't going to work - hell, he didn't even know if there was marinara in anything she was carrying, but she'd said it and he'd rolled with it in a shitty attempt to save his ass. There wasn't really much else he could think of to say besides the truth, and she probably wouldn't believe that either.

The moment his eyes catch sight of a cell phone, he looks over his shoulders frantically. There's a reason he does what he does mostly at night - less witnesses... y'know, except for this one time he has to be an idiot and not only forget a change of clothes, but also slam right into a woman while looking like a maniac.

Ace looks over his left shoulder once more, and then reaches out to try and catch her by the elbow - there's too much touching, but he really has no choice at this point -, and pull her aside. ]

No. Look, this isn't what it looks like - I don't even know what this looks like, but it's not what you think, okay? I just--

*Well, this is interesting.* Having fun?

[Said sweater manages to catch one lanky gentleman directly in the face.]

~Oh fer-- OY! You there! Wot the bleedin 'ell is this?!~

[Ace casts a quick glance over his shoulder - god damn it, Ace, why did you turn around, you don't need anyone remembering your face - and blurts out a rushed, mildly-panicked apology. Normally, everything runs smoothly and he's in and out with no problems, but he'd come way to close to being caught tonight, so he's a little on edge.

And now this. ]

Sorry, man-- it's--

[ And he's still moving, his pace brisk, hurried. ]

It's not mine!

[ Yeah, sure. And the bloodied shirt he's wearing isn't his either. ]

~That's even MORE concerning, mate.~

[He just walks after him - he has long legs and won't get out of breath, after all.]

[ Ace mutters something under unintelligible under his breath and it takes exactly four seconds for him to realize that he's hearing this guy's voice in his head. He stops abruptly, the rubber sole of his shoes skidding against the concrete, and then he turns around slowly.

His expression is a mix of... too many things. Frustration, mild-disbelief, anxiousness... curiosity. Ace's jaw is tense, his breathing a little bit quicker than normal, and he looks like a hot mess with the front of his shirt stained red and his fingers sticky with almost-dried blood.

For a few long seconds, he says absolutely nothing. His eyes dart here and there, taking in the appearance of the stranger, trying to figure him out. Is... is he a telepath? Is he losing his goddamn mind and hearing things?

... Does he know what he's just done?

Slowly, he begins to walk backwards and he holds a hand out defensively, fingers outstretched. ]

Leave me alone, man. I'm not messing around.

~Neither am I. Yer either injured and in trouble, or you've gone and 'urt someone. Leaving aside the fact you've got blood all over me face - and I do 'ope none on the vinyl I just bought, these albums are old - that means you either need 'elp or I should be kicking yer arse.~

[She tries to peer over his shoulder when he peeks over his shoulder. Darcy gives a little yelp when he grabs her elbow, a smart remark already on her lips when he starts talking]

Excuse me, pal, how do you know what I think?

[ Ace pulls her off to the side, into a small alley between the deli and the building next to it. He let's go of her and takes a step away as soon as they're out of sight, though, so she knows that he has no ill intentions, and cards a sticky had through his hair. His weight shifts back and forth between his feet, anxiety coursing through him like a low vibration. ]

I don't but-- just-- no phone calls, no hospital.

[ He swallows hard, because his mouth feels dry and cottony and he can't really feel his tongue anymore. Then, after what feels like minutes to him but is really only seconds, he lifts his stained shirt up to the bottom of his rib cage, exposing his torso. ]

I'm... I'm not hurt, see?

[ And he's... not. His skin is smeared with dried blood, but the only evidence of their ever being an injury is a pink scar to the left and just below his navel, about three inches in length and half an inch high. ]

You've got it all wrong.

[ He's quick to respond, shaking his head as he continues to move backwards, glancing over his shoulder every few seconds to make sure he's not about to run into anyone or anything. ]

~Guess you'd better explain it ter me, then. And quickly.~

[ Who the hell is this guy and what's the the scarf around his face? It's like eighty-something degrees out, man!

I mean, to be fair, he does kind of have a right to be pissed off, having caught a (quite literally) bloody sweater with his face, but. C'mon, this is not how things are supposed to go!

Ace shakes his head like he's trying to gain his bearings and collect the cluster of thoughts racing around in his mind. His pace slows a little, but he doesn't stop moving entirely. ]

All you need to know is that no one is hurt, okay? I'm not hurt, and I didn't hurt anyone either. Now just-- stay out of my head or-- or whatever it is you're doing.

~Terribly sorry, but I'm afraid that's not possible.

Look, mate, if you were in trouble, I can 'elp.~

[ He almost trips over the raised edge of sidewalk, stumbling backwards a few steps. It just makes his anxiety skyrocket and he swallows again, wondering how the hell this went from business as usual to screwed sideways in a matter of a few minutes. ]

I'm n-not in trouble--

[ And he grits his teeth, because he's fucking stuttering now, like an idiot. Fantastic. ]

I just-- I just need to get the h-hell away from here.

[He pauses, hands in the pockets of his jacket, then shrugs.]

~Right, then. Come on, if you go down this way there's a place you can get cleaned up.~

[ Ace hesitates and side-eyes him pretty hard, clearly very skeptical. ]

... You're not a cop, are you?

~I'm a bleedin' superhero.~

[ That's either really harsh sarcasm, or... well, Ace doesn't really know what else. He furrows his brows, decides that this day can't really get too much worse, and then he... nods. ]

... Alright.

~Follow me.~

[He gestures down an alley, which pops them out on a different street. From there it's a short walk to a filthy looking pub, which he gestures to.]

~Use the loo in 'ere. Get cleaned up. Nobody will care.~

[The patrons, indeed, don't seem to pay them any mind.]

[ Ace follows at what he determines to be a safe distance - if he needs to get the hell out of dodge, he has more of an opportunity. When they enter the bar, he finds it kind of bizarre that no one seems to pay them any mind, especially considering the fact that he looks like a victim of a knife fight.

Deciding not to question it, because things are getting too bizarre, he makes his way to the restroom at the back of the pub and disappears for a few minutes. He cleans up what he can, but there's no saving his shirt. ]

[Jono meanwhile waits at the bar, talking to the fellow on the other side of it.]

Charlie can taste blood in his air, practically coating his tongue with sickly-sweet copper. He can't help the face he makes, or the way he swallows hard, looking around for the source of it. Someone is bleeding, or was recently. It's a little hard to tell.

The source is easy enough to spot, though, running like he is with his sweater half over his head, and the only problem with that is he's running right for Charlie in his wheelchair. Charlie, who can't seem to make his hands move fast enough to get him clear, and can only speak up sharply as he tries to get out of the way.

"Dude! Watch out!!"

[She is surprised when he pulls her aside and is about ready to kick him in very painful places when she notices that there are no open wounds on him]

Holy shit, dude, did you kill someone?

[And there goes her mouth before her brain catches up with the thought of "GENIUS, HE CAN KILL YOU TOO!"]

[ Ace immediately drops his shirt and holds his hands up defensively, shaking his head. This is always how it goes - not that he's run into very many people while in his current state, but it has happened a few times before (though admittedly, it's never been this bad). ]

No, no, no - the opposite.

[ Someone killed... me? No, damn it. ]

I mean-- I didn't kill anybody. I just. I helped, okay? I helped, a-a-and there's no reason to call or-- or tell anyone about any of this.

Edited 2015-03-29 20:11 (UTC)

So you helped someone kill somebody? What the hell?

[She's beginning to freak out a bit. But remains calm for the time being because if she freaked out over the guy freaking out, then weird things might happen that may or may not result in her not making it back with the meatball sandwiches]

[ Ace cards his fingers through his hair and steps back. This is terrible. This is awful and at this point he just wants to run because there really isn't any positive way out of this - not the way he sees it anyway. ]

No.

[ He paces for a moment, trying to fight the urge to just shove her bag of - of marinara at her and take off. He's just going to have to go for it, lay it all out and hope for the best.

Stopping in front of her, he exhales heavily, clearly stressed and annoyed and mildly paranoid and panicked. ]

Look, I'm-- I-I'm a mutant, okay? I can do w-weird shit that people think I shouldn't be able to do, but I can, and I just saved a guy's life. I didn't kill anyone, a-and this isn't how any of this was supposed to go.

Edited 2015-03-30 20:56 (UTC)

[She clutches the bag for dear life before strengthening her reserve]

Okay. You're gonna snap out of it. You're gonna come back to my place. You're gonna take a shower and we're going to wash the blood out and figure out what else to do with you so you're not so freaked out.

[ Ace looks at her like she's crazy. He knows nothing about her, whether or not she believes him, or if she works for some kind of crazy government organization he should be concerned about. And she wants him to just go to her place?

Yeah. Okay.

He laughs, but it's strained. He's not 'freaked out', just... really, really stressed and frustrated and a little bit paranoid, but this is far from freaked out. ]

What? No. No, I'm not-- I'm not doing any of that.

Okay, fine. Don't do that. Run around the city with bloody clothes and see how long you're gonna stay out of the police's super fun hangout.

[She pushes past him, hoping he didn't get blood on the cooling makings of dinner. She looks over at him, though, concerned as to what will happen to him]

[ Ace steps aside a little as she pushes past, mostly to avoid as much physical contact as possible. He doesn't necessarily want to go with her, because she could potentially walk him right into a jail cell, but at the same time... she's seen him. He's confessed to her, about what he is and what he's done, and it's probably not a good idea to just let her walk away with all of that information when he has absolutely no information on her.

Maybe... he should take her up on her offer, if only to make sure she doesn't try to pull a fast one on him.

Exhaling, and not entirely sure of what he's about to do, Ace shifts his weight between his feet before throwing everything to the wind and calling out to her. ]

Wait. Wait a minute.

Edited 2015-04-01 01:31 (UTC)

Sorry! Not listening!

[All bravado as she walks her way right back to her apartment instead of the lab. If she went to the lab, Jane would possibly ask questions while conducting experiments on the mutant. And quite frankly, it didn't look like he was interested to be poked and prodded]

[ Ace trails her, glancing over his shoulder every now and then to make sure they're not being followed (nevermind the fact that he's following her), all while trying to get her attention or at least convince her to stop. ]

Look-- please, just wait a second. What's your name?

[She finally stops]

If you've got to know, my name is Darcy. Why is it so important?

[ Because if shit hits the fan, I need to know who to blame.

Ace stops too, some feet behind her because despite everything, he's still uncertain of her and her intentions, and he doesn't want to get himself into even more shit than he's already in. ]

I just... wanted to know.

[ It's hard for him to try and be... friendly, when in a situation like this. He's actually pretty good at sweet-talking people when he's not worried about someone ratting him out or finding out his twisted habits. ]

Because I feel like we may have gotten off on the wrong foot and I know this looks terrible but it's really not, and you were just trying to help...?

[ Was... that a question? ]

I'm... Ace.

[She gives him a suspicious look]

What's the change of tune, dude?