Welcome to Gaia! ::

Wait, Bard, I - *but it's too late; he's already gone*

*Maggie just stands there, staring at the door. This time she can't keep herself from twisting her hands in the fabric of Will's shirt. She hates this helpless feeling . . . that something's wrong and she doesn't know what or how to help . . . that there's a distance she doesn't know how to bridge. It's too familiar, in too many ways*

---OWWW!

*Luke appears as if thrown into the Brink. His lacrosse gear clamors against the bar, as he smacks against it. He's sweaty and a little dirty. His face is scrunched in pain. He's crouched down, his left hand clutching his right bicep.*

*Red blood dibbles around his fingers.*

*Growling out a series of incoherent curses, Luke looks up.....To find himself in the Brink.*

Oh, What the <******** looks for the first time at the blood seeping from his bicep. He arches his neck and glares up at the Brink, absolutely FURIOUS.*

Aw, ******** YOU, a*****e!

*Luke heaves a derisive sound.* *He says hurriedly and to no one in particular* Yeah, yeah my ******** arm.

*looking up and around.* What the ********!? What is it with this ******** place?!

*If Maggie hadn't been at his side, Luke probably would have taken a cue from a Stephen Segal film and gone apeshit - throwing chairs and pounding his gloved fists into any durable surfaces.*

*However, Maggie is at his side. And that forces him to calm down, a least a hair. Luke's breath heaves out of his chest. He winces, taking away his bloodied hand to see the damage.*

*A jagged cut etches down his bicep. Luke glowered at it. Goddammit....why? WHY did it bring him in now? Did this place just like to see people in pain?*

*Luke blinks double-time as Maggie attends to him. Maggie's reaction so closely imitates that of a mother or a nurse in his time - that despite the situation he falls into habit and allows her to lead him to a table without protest.*

*A number of thoughts running through his head, Luke sits down, still clutching his arm.* *He breaths.* Goddammit...

*Luke flinches as she swabs the wound with alcohol, but other than that he's uncharacteristically quiet and cooperative. Truly surrpised (and thankful) to find himself being cared for on the shortest notice, Luke watches Maggie quite competently tend to the wound.*

*He helps her here and there, holding bandages out for her and holding still as he can.*

*Feeling a little bit moronic at his dramatic display, he murmurs.* Thank you.

*Luke snorts.* Yeah. *sigh* I was trying to back door the goal and... *He stares and makes a face, for a moment, mesmirized by the nastiness of the cut.* Missed.

*Before Maggie can ask.* Means I didn't play well.

*Luke looks down at the bandage. Not bad. Still hurt like a b***h, but... He did at least feel much calmer than he had upon entrance.*

*He looks at Maggie, smiling just a little at her obvious motherly nature. Come to think of it.... He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Maggie when she wasn't on the verge of a nervous breakdown, in the middle of having one, or recovering from one by hooking up with Bard.*

Yeah... Yeah I'll have it checked out. *Actually he probably won't.*

*He sighs and leans back in his chair, truly exhausted.* So they can tell me to be more careful and watch out for chain-link fences...

*Aw, and he was hungry and thirsty. He should be getting it himself, he wasn't dying.. But s**t he was just ******** tired.*

Maggie... anything you can find back there to eat and drink sounds good to me.