Stuck in the closet [attn: Doc and Margot]
William wasn't dying, but he did happen to be sporting a collapsed lung and the kind of internal bruising that comes when you end up in a bar fight and lose. Or an angry ex who really, really liked to throw things. 

He was visibly grateful for the hand in getting Sepúlveda into the car, poor bloodied deceptively-heavy man. He half noticed Ned, looked almost confused for a moment before making the connection that this must be Ned. That or Margot hangs out with intimidating people who feel like drowning, He's wary, skirts the edges of that person Working. Play it cool. 

He's distracted enough that he almost missed Margot's question. "What?"

Where is it?
"Shadowlands," he finally replied, "it's fine. Too tired to do much." Said in a way that is at once dismissive and attempting to be reassuring. Any time someone says it's fine, it is most assuredly not fine.

"This guy is on trial-" he starts, conserves words and air because breathing really was unpleasant- "and I'm there because our ghost friend needed someone there. So I'm sitting in on this case and that Jensen guy- the one on trial- does this thing-" he half gestured, but realized he jostled Sepúlveda so he stopped "- he must've been preparing that effect for months because suddenly every sleeper in there goes down hard. And you can't fucking do that shit without reality noticing. 

"I bolted. Ran into Sepúlveda in the hall, we ducked into a closet, and reality is Setting An Example. Guy racked up enough paradox that anyone close enough to the blast took it. Doc did something- don't know what, didn't check- and we'd probably be dying in the damn closet if he hadn't."
"What was it?"

Ned's tone is under the radar suspicious. That's 2 parts Caution, 1 part Paranoia and a dash of get-the-fuck-out. He's staring at Will with that tired face, screwed up as it was into a pinched layer of someone realizing they just entered a live blast zone.

"The thing that was being prepared for months. Was it just the sleepers? Or was that just a side-effect?"
Margot's paced was about matched with Will's as they made their hindered way up the alley to meet the under-slept and standoffish-looking Ned at its end. He with his punctured lung, she with a man heavier than herself being hauled largely on her back and shoulders (even though his feet did drag and trail behind). She took in the tale of what had occurred, and furrowed her brow while considering circumstances described, things observed on the news, and how that may associate with a Wielder who generated enough a backlash to do this much damage.

As they convened, the air seemed thicker and more difficult to breathe-- Margot was plenty familiar with it, but still pulled in a slow and intentional breath that filled her chest fully to adjust. As she came nearer, she turned her shoulder and back toward Ned in a clear request for help with Doc.

"What, the Paradox?" she asked Ned while the Doc started slipping toward the ground as a result of her legs starting to bow from weariness. "Or the Spirit? Can we do this in the car?"
"Here, give 'em."

Ned steps toward Margot with a gentle shoulder into his Cabalmate, pulling Doc's prone body onto his own sturdier frame and taking the weight from Margot and Will both. The Doc wasn't huge and Ned had enough frat boy experience carrying buds home from keggers that he knew the best method. A few steps later and he simply tucks an arm under the doc's knees and lifts the man up like some man-baby. He up-nods towards the car, glancing around them as he goes to inspect for observers while waiting for an answer...and for Margot to get the door so he can tuck their Mentor out of sight.
"There are two people talking. We are in an alleyway near the courthouse. It's daytime. There was an incident but everyone here is alive and will be okay."

William exhaled something slow that tried to be deep before it made him cough again and the expression contorted into a familiar sort of pain. This wasn't a first for him. He couldn't breathe. It had very little to do with the sensation of having a collapsed lung and having to do something physical and more to do with the fact that there was this oppressive, intent feeling that there was no real way to breathe in. The impending feeling of things closing in and there's nothing you can really do about it. No avoiding, no bargaining, just the inevitable that you can't really do anything about and the water's high and it doesn't matter if you can swim because the-

His eyes stayed closed and the two conscious people with him could have asked any number of things but his focus was somewhere else. Perhaps on something parallel (no, more parody than parallel.) For some people, they lose a grasp on what is real when they've been taken for one Hell of a bad trip, for others all it takes is a slip. 

"There are two people talking," he said, an affirmation, holding onto real things when the world was trying to move, "we are in an alleyway near the courthouse. It's daytime. There was an incident but everyone here is alive and will be okay."

It seemed to be enough, the reminder to be present, but then there were questions to answer. 

"I don't know what happened, I can go back and check later if you want to come," he told Ned. William was already headed to the car. 

"Are you guys going to be okay to handle this?" he said.
I really, really, really don't want to get in the car, he said without saying.  


Prone to Quiet roll.


the devil

The devil
Iiiiii forgot wound penalties. 

Int 3 + enigmas 3 = 6 -2 (wound penalties) = 4, diff 7

Dice: 4 d10 TN7 (1, 5, 7, 7) ( success x 2 )

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