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connor hill - 25/25 - loyalty wins out

Throughout every shocking moment of the events that played on in front of him, Connor remained rooted to his spot. Chel had left, or at least was attempting to (he never saw if she succeeded, if she had, good for her). He couldn't leave, couldn't move, couldn't do anything but just watch. It was all so wrong, and yet, when the blade was handed over to Algie, Connor couldn't help but bark out an inappropriate laugh.

He'd wanted it. He'd wanted to be the one to choose. His friends had backed him, and now he was likely getting a lot more than he'd bargained for. What wasn't ******** hilarious about that?

The old mans refusal to do it himself would have perhaps been a more poignant statement if he hadn't handed the knife over to the girl who so clearly wished to die. He might as well have done it himself, at that point. Connor felt the blood was still on Alg's hands, and a minute head shake was given, his lips still faintly curled up in a way that might have suggested he still found this entire situation terribly amusing in some way.

But when the blood did flow, when another murder was attempted, when all of the action began to break out around him, Connor hesitated in his turn to leave. It wasn't right. The girl had sacrificed herself, she had wanted it.

But a murder. They were there to prevent a murder. Isn't that what they'd been told? All night he had wondered at how they were supposed to do that, when it seemed inevitable that somebody die. And yet, there, that woman that seemed to have garnered so much hatred, she had been stabbed, she lay dying on the ground.

That was murder, and as much as Connor wanted to just walk away, to pretend he had never even been there, he could not. Gritting his teeth, swearing under his breath, he approached, at the same time as another man who offered his assistance.

"Is she still alive?" He asked, of Temperance, "Is there still ******** time?"

A cool glance was given the detectives way. "If you want to leave, if you want no part in this, than kindly, just ******** leave"

[Temperance: 25/25 oh thank god]

"Jordan! Connor! I think she's stable enough to move, but if we aren't quick, it won't matter. She needs to be in a hospital, needs blood, but her breathing is steady." Temperance wished she could wipe the sweat from her brow. "Help me tie this, Jordan." A length of cloth around Melany's chest should keep the bundled up, blood-soaked fabric in place. Her dress was nearly obscenely short by now, but she'd strip ******** naked to make bandages if needed.

"Once we get this tied, Connor, can you carry her? We don't have a stretcher; you're better than nothing." And she flashed a smile she didn't really feel up at him. Shun was shot a dirty look.

"Ethics, detective. Go find someone to help instead of hinder. Do you want to be a murderer, too?" She didn't have time for this.

Jordan Miller - 25/25 - helping

Jordan helped tie the makeshift bandage in place, then looked up at the man who was imposing himself between the small group and the exit. "Dude," he said, "you're telling e medical professional to abandon a patient she thinks she can save. I don't think you're going to make much headway there." He'd heard what was said; he wasn't entirely sure this lady deserved to be helped, if she'd done all of that. But it was clear that Temperance wasn't leaving without the injured woman, and he wasn't about to abandon her.

The other woman who'd been helping was swaying and pale, looking like she was about to faint. Jordan moved to offer her his arm. "Here, are you gonna be okay?"

Connor hill - 25/25 - doin what's right

"And isn't it nice to know that we can count on our local law enforcement to condone muder." Connor retorted, tone dry, voice steady even in this, a situation that was all stress and tension and blood and everything that wasn't calm.

"Tell me, detective, do you let your prisoners die and rot in their cells when they fall ill? Step aside, and let us do our ******** jobs. Just because you're s**t at yours doesn't mean we all are."

To Temp, a nod was given. He was prepared to help as soon as they were ready to go.

Autumn Smith 20/25
"Magic has a way of evening things out, Shun. I think, at the very least, before we take further action, we can get information out of her. Figure out what it is that lies ahead." Another shaky breath, and she staggered a bit. Definitely WAY too much healing tonight, for all that Pax had told her to lay off. Autumn sat down, and stared up at the detective.

"She called the masked guy My Lord, before she went down. The Red Lady called her mom. You see it as saving a murderer, but... at the very least, I think we just gained ourselves a source. Someone who actually knows what the ******** is going on here, who knows how the pieces go together."

She rubbed her face, trying to will herself to stay awake.

"I'm not saying pardon her for her crimes. I'm just saying... there's been enough senseless violence tonight, with this s**t. Let's figure out what to do when we're all a little more level-headed."

Autumn Smith 20/25, worn out
"I can't stop you, Shun. I burnt out, saving her once. If you're gonna kill her again, it's on you." And that was that. Clearly, Autumn was worn to the bone. Whatever she'd done in healing Spinel, and TRYING with Adoelle, it had drained her. Drained her beyond what the typical healing left her with. Autumn closed her eyes, wheezing softly.

"I'm. Probably gonna go into another. Coma-kind of thing. Nobody panic if I drop-off, just... get me to Jeremiah or Zac. If it happens. S'happened before."

Jordan Miller - 25/25 - helping Autumn

"Yeah, no problem." Jordan crouched down next to Autumn, moving to pick her up. "I'm gonna carry you, okay?"