8021/Lucy, I'm Home!

Lucy, I'm Home!
Date of Scene:	28 September 2021
Location:	Helena Wayne's Gotham Apartment
Synopsis:	The Helena's converge on Miss Wayne's apartment after separate patrols. Bandages are shared. A deal is struck. And someone falls asleep.
Cast of Characters:	Helena Wayne, Helena Bertinelli

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Helena Wayne has posed:
All in all it wasn't a terrible night. By 1am Helena Wayne, a.k.a. Huntress, has made it back to her Gotham apartment. There were more gangers than she'd anticipated, and they were better armed as well. Parking her bike in its usual hiding place, she climbs to the roof and swings down to the fire escape.

Breaking in by jimmying the window lock only slows her briefly. With her night vision gear, she doesn't turn on a light right away. The body armor and the cape turned the short burst of bullets, but she still favors her left side a touch.

Helena Bertinelli has posed:
Helena Bertinelli has made it to Helena Wayne's apartment but barely, having jimmied the window and circumvented the security with her security bat-mute device. Huntress is in not great shape, having desperately made it only as far as Helena's apartment, probably not able to make it back to her own. She holds her arm because she's bleeding and falls on the floor, her costume in a sorry state. She crawls along the carpet, getting it kinda dirty in the process, "Helena..." she mutters.

Helena Wayne has posed:
Okay, it doesn't really take expensive night-vision gear to tell that someone is in her place. Someone on the floor. And hurt. Helena Wayne crosses the room and sinks into a crouch, cape trailing behind. "Right here." she murmurs back. "Gonna keep the lights off for a moment. Where are you hurt? What's the injury?" The younger Helena immediately goes into triage mode.

Helena Bertinelli has posed:
"Sis? Are you here?" Huntress asks in the dark, then grabs for her as she appears in front of her, "Yeah, the Swordmaster re-appeared," she tells her and looks up at her in the dark, "Turn the damn lights on," she mutters. She grabs at Helena's arm and pulls herself to her knees, "I'm fine! Just help me up," she says.

Helena Wayne has posed:
Helena Wayne knows the apartment layout, even in the dark, and as she rises to step over to a lamp she continues the conversation. "I'm here." she murmurs. "Swordmaster? What the hell is wrong with you people in this dimension, anyway?" It's a small table lamp rather than the overhead, and Helena Wayne quickly strips of her leather gloves. Her own injuries take a back seat for now, and she helps up Huntress. "Fine, my ass." she grumbles, guiding the other vigilante to the sofa. "Sit still while I find out where the blood is coming from."

Helena Bertinelli has posed:
Helena Bertinelli stumbles to the couch, "I'm fine!" she grumbles. She holds her side as she winces as she says, "I think he got me in the arm or the side. Or both," she tells Helena. She peels up the costume to examine her arm cut, "Dammit," she comments, "I know where the blood is coming from. Me! don't you have any bandages? Bandages!" she lets out.

Helena Wayne has posed:
Helena Wayne tilts her head as the costume is pulled up, leaning in a bit closer. Fingers trace lightly over the exposed flesh and she smirks at the other woman. "Yeah, sure you're fine. You just sit here all the same, 'kay?" Rising, she peels off her mask and drops it onto a chair. "I've got first aid kits stashed all over. It's oozing, so he didn't hit an artery. Put pressure on it." Reaching under the sofa, she pulls out a large first aid kit and opens it.

Helena Bertinelli has posed:
Helena Bertinelli puts her hand over her wound, "I've been doing that!" she whines, "I usually do this myself but I couldn't make it back. He slashed my tires," she grumbles sadly, "And my arm. So I broke his legs," she sighs, "I need to go get my motorcycle," she tells her. She scoots to the end of the sofa.

Helena Wayne has posed:
Helena Wayne opens the lid and looks over at the wound, selecting a large gauze and a wide roll of tape. Holding those in one hand, she picks up an aerosol can with the other. "We'll worry about your bike later." she declares almost clinically. "Arm up, now. Take your hand away..." *PSSSSSSH* The antiseptic also freezes the wound, helping to further slow the blood flow. She sprays it again for good measure. "Is your bike hidden?"

Helena Bertinelli has posed:
Helena Bertinelli complains, "I pushed it in a damn bush," she tells Helena and frowns, "Hey," she says as she's sprayed, then looks down at her arm, flexing her fingers in the process. She reaches up and pulls off her own mask, then looks back at Helena, "Thanks," she mutters quietly, "Now, where are /you/ hurt? Gimmie that needle," she states amusedly.

Helena Wayne has posed:
Helena Wayne immediately pulls back the can, setting it out of reach as she applies gauze and starts taping it in place. She wrinkles her nose, laughing softly. "No needle required! I'm not the one who got cut by a sword." But she's clearly hurt. And even in the low light Helena Bertinelli can see the scuff marks in the fabric from a line of bullets. Something automatic.

Helena Bertinelli has posed:
Helena Bertinelli pats her own arm and hmms, "It's fine! The costume isn't paper," she whines. She purses her lips as she reaches out to grab Helena and examine her wounds if any, "Oh no, I can see that you were in a fight, I'm not stupid. What happened?" she demands of her, "Where's that bandage?" she says, taking the first aid kit and rummages through it.

Helena Wayne has posed:
Helena Wayne gives her counterpart a look of mock-disgust before passing the first aid kit over. She sits heavily onto the couch, wincing as she slowly tugs up her costume from the waist. "One of those assholes had an uzi. And yes, MY costume stops 9mm slugs, too." Another wince as she half-turns to look down at the rising bruises. "Still hurts, though. I'd prescribe a glass of wine, except I'm not old enough to buy it."

Helena Bertinelli has posed:
Helena Bertinelli smirks, "Yeah yeah, I got it, you're young! Youthful, energetic, eager, yeah yeah---geezus," she complains, "When I was your age...." she begins, pausing for effect, "I was just starting to kick ass," she adds. She squints and examines Helena, "Oh look, that's not so bad, it's only a flesh wound," she complains, poking at her repeatedly. She takes a bunch of band aids and applies them to Helena each in turn, then unwraps some bandage and tapes it to her. At least she cares.

Helena Wayne has posed:
Helena Wayne rolls her eyes when the story begins, looking away. Then she is poked and the younger Helena hisses, half-turning. Which only makes her wince all the more. "Hey! And yeah, I know. The wisdom of experience and all that. I've heard THAT story before...." From her dad, of all people. "If you REALLY cared you'd bring a bottle of wine next time. The good Italian stuff, too, not the cheap shit."

Helena Bertinelli has posed:
Helena Bertinelli smirks, "Oh right, I'll just go down to the vineyard right," she says, patting the final little bandage in place, poking it a few more times, "There! Perfect!" she lets out, "Well, I don't make a bad nurse," she complements herself and smiles, "What? Oh right, yeah stop sneaking the two-dollar wine, sis. Geezus."

Helena Wayne has posed:
"Ten dollar wine..." the younger Helena protests. "And I don't sneak it." She doesn't steal it, either. Her mother was the thief in the family, and Helena is all too sensitive about that. And wary of becoming like her. Lowering her arm and the kevlar fabric, she rolls her shoulder a little with minimal wincing now. "All I'm saying is that a nice bottle of Venitian Moscato would really endear your younger sister to you."

Helena Bertinelli has posed:
Helena Bertinelli leans back on the couch with a knowing smile and says, "Uh huh," she mutters, "Moscatos for old ladies! Don't you want something nice?!" she lets out, "Fine fine, gawd you ask enough, I'll slip you some booze," she explains amusedly, "I'm such a nice sister. Shit! I'm so cool!" she laughs.

Helena Wayne has posed:
Helena Wayne laughs as well. "Careful, sis. Don't want your head to explode and spray your brains all over the walls." Then she wrinkles her nose for effect. "But yeah, you can be the cool sis if it makes you feel better." Pause. "And if you buy me a NICE bottle of wine every now and then."

Helena Bertinelli has posed:
Helena Bertinelli frowns and feels the side of her head, "Head explode? Dang, kids and their references," she mutters, and then smiles, "You can't handle my wine, sis!" she laughs, "Fine fine," she agrees and then kicks her feet up down over the couch. She yawns, "I'm just gonna camp out here a while.... and then go get my bike ..." she says sleepily.

Helena Wayne has posed:
Helena Wayne sits up a little, watching as her 'older sis' stretches out. For a moment she considers offering the second bedroom. Then again she also considers offering a glass of something to drink and slipping something into it. "Sure thing." she replies, voice softening. "You just relax and camp a little." Looks like the adrenaline crash will do the job just fine.

Helena Bertinelli has posed:
Helena Bertinelli yawns again and stretches her arms over her head, "Just a little," she mutters, "I'm fine but I need to hike over and get my bike," she tells her again, "Don't let me interrupt your evening," she mutters, "See this is where you down all the wine, sis."

Helena Wayne has posed:
"What wine?" Helena Wayne replies softly. She rises more smoothly now, the fabric quiet as it flexes. "Actually, this is where I run a hot bath and soak." she replies. Stepping past Helena Bertinelli, her hand drops to the other's shoulder to give a light squeeze. "Relax and get some rest."