PSL Containment

[telepathicignorance]

Just a place to put any PSLs.

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[telepathicignorance]

There are, in fact, people who can jump two stories and keep moving. Those are planned jumps though, by people who know what they're doing.

"Fuck."

They did not plan this fall, though they did at least manage to avoid hitting their head. They roll over, clutching their arm (it's not noticeably broken, but it's entirely possible that they've got a small fracture)... and that's when they make eye contact with the asset and freeze.

Shit. Fuck.

[worthallthis]

Eye contacts lasts for a couple seconds before the asset is backing up another step, eyes unfocusing and sliding just to the left side of their face, instead. He isn't being attacked. That means he doesn't have to kill them. Right?

Why do they look familiar? Former handler maybe...?

If that's the case, he really needs to leave, but he's not sure that's the case. This person isn't really acting like a handler. There's no barking orders or threatening with guns or shock batons.

[telepathicignorance]

"No!" They catch that thought and immediately need to correct it, it's so inherently offensive to them.

"Not... a handler." Well, them responding to his thoughts might at least give them some clue as to what they are. Telepathy is a valued trait among Hydra's new artificially created infiltration units.

[worthallthis]

That gets them a startled twitch, and the knives coming back up in alarm. He hadn't said that out loud. Had he?

No-- wait, there was another project. He remembers. New assets. He doesn't know if he's worked with them before. He can't remember that much.

But he is also pretty sure this particular asset isn't on mission. They fell out of a window, for Chrissakes. And he thinks that dumpster might be theirs. It would make sense.

The knives finally comes all the way down again, hands at his sides. Maybe they're not a threat after all. But he doesn't know what else this asset might be, instead.

[telepathicignorance]

"You ...ran away? From them." They practically spit the last word, the venom clear even beneath the pain.

They try to move, to sit up. Their pain gate makes it possible but--fuck! They grit their teeth at the twinge of pain that rockets up their arm even as they manage a sitting position.

[worthallthis]

He flinches, too, at the question, the vitriol, the clear pain, all of it. "I failed my mission," he says uncertainly. "Going back was. Ill advised." Then he might be made to try and complete the mission again. He doesn't want that. That want is firm, not wavering. He does not want to hit that target again.

It's still uncomfortable, but it is not something he will give up on either. So here he is, orderless, not entirely sure how to get by in a world he doesn't really remember much about.

"Are you injured," he finally asks. Because they fell out of a window and that looks like pain.

[telepathicignorance]

"Probably best."

They look at the Asset cautiously. He's the asset, and that's probably bad if they want to stay hidden. Can't imagine Hydra not looking for him. But helping him is the right thing to do. What a hero would do.

...They want to be a hero, right?

"Broke my arm, I think. You got anywhere to go?" They doubt he does.