Don't run away

It was summer. The air was warm and had a tickle of salty humidity. There was a distant hum of electricity weaving through wires that were due to be replaced. Lights flickered, giving the illusion that fireflies danced the streets and all was calm.

There was a loud bellowed shout followed by a high pitch screech in return. Some domestic scuffle began to play itself out and the sound of the slums came back. The peace that had set in slid away its rose colored tint, showing the location for what it was. The scarred underbelly of Jump city turned upright like a wound that had been wrapped and forgotten about. It festered.

The wind gave a whistle, as if playing a haunting melody for the fallen people of this place. It was not the worse he had seen, but it still made his skin feel unclean. Eyes as fathomless as the boundaries of space searched over the dark and trash strewn allies. There was a distant tolling. A forgotten clock tower left to its devices rung out the time. Twelve hollow tolls stole away the night into morning.

A gust of wind streaked up the face of the low disheveled apartment, making the one who gazed out into the reaches of Crash Ally wrinkle his nose as the smell wafted past him. There was a mix of things he knew and a tang he could not name. His hair hair dance in the wind, the locks as deep as spilled blood.

This was where he would look. His last lead had led him in circles and brought nothing but trouble. But here, in a city he knew little about, he would start his search again. He was wiser now. More experienced. At least, he kept saying he was.

His gaze was as sharp as a fresh sword as he shifted from the crouch he rested in. His hand that had been set limply over his knee moved up, showing him the paper he never let leave his side.

It was ragged and filled with holes. Its surface was faded but still the words could be read. A set of names and places were scrolled on it, leading him to where he was. He turned his eyes back into the night, his mind calculating things too fast to make clear to any one else. He sight came back to the present, his gaze settling back on a house of ill repute in the form of a bar. This was where he would start.

He folded the paper delicately before putting it in the shirt of his uniform. He settled down, preparing for a long night of spying, only for something out of place to appear. A person with brilliant white hair and clothes entered his view. She looked out of place. Crimson narrowed his eyes in mute curiosity. She was walking by, not paying a glance at the place he had been spying on. Even still, he felt the urge to follow her.

He soon saw why when he noticed two men take interest in her as well. Crimson felt a sigh come on. No matter where he went, people never changed. With a small shrug, he stood and gave chase, following the girl with the silver hair into the night.

Crimson stood To the side, his back set against the wall, a brow raised, his mask arching with it. That, he had not expected.

This girl had seemed in need of saving, but when she turned to face the men with a look of confidence, he decided to hang back. He was curious what she would do.

When the man she had let grab her started screaming bloody murder, Crimson almost stepped in to help him. He had jumped down from his high perch to do so after a few moments when it seemed that the man was really in trouble. then she had let him go and gave him a solid kick, telling what for.

He gave a small snort. He had enjoyed the show she had put on. Seeing scum bags get what's coming to them never seemed to get old to him.

The men ran past him without so much as sparing him a glance, too flustered by the display to make sure they had a clear escape rout. It also helped that he was propped against a wall and out of sight.

He stayed still as he heard the girl move out of the ally. She saw him, but didn't seem the least bit interested. He spared a glance towards the sky, judging the location of the moon. Not much time had passed since he followed her. No more then ten minutes if he was accurate. He glanced in the direction he had come from, debating his next move. He wanted to get back and make sure he got done what he needed to do.

He turned his sights on the girl, a brow raised a bit at her before he gave a shrug. By the looks of things she could handle herself. He crouched low before he gave a powerful leap, landing on the roof top of a near by building. He paused on top of it, absently glancing back down in the ally to the girl. He wondered, would she be safe on her way home? Sure, physical contact seemed like a no-no for anyone messing with her, but it didn't take skin to skin contact to knock someone out with a bat.

Crimson felt the hero in him saying to make sure she made it home alright. It was an obnoxious voice that never seemed to go quite. It was also a voice his never ignored. With a sigh he spun on his heal and leaped back into the ally, landing in the cross hairs of the girls path.

"Isn't it a little late to be wandering the streets," He spoke in a cool voice, trying to sound authoritative.

"I know you can do some serious harm with what ever you did back there, but I still wouldn't call it a wise idea to be on your own," He said before nodded his head towards the near by rooftops to the ally.

"Want a lift?" He questioned.

(OOC- You kinda godmodded my character a bit there)

(O.O.C: Where? The man being roundhouse kicked isn't you. It's the thug guy... Sorry if that was unclear.)

(Oh lol. It's okay, just a little confused was all X3)

OOC: (No it's fine. I could have been more descriptive than "he." :P continue~)

Crimson blinked at how calm she was considering the large slash she had etched from knee to ankle. He moved closer to her, worry coming to his features, but also curiosity. Most people would be down on the ground, clutching such a deep cut screaming. This Marina girl seemed to be fairing fine. Something told him this was not the first wound she had earned herself.

He stepped closer to her, reaching into one of the hidden pockets of his uniform before he produced a rather well used roll of bandages. He gave the object a once over, noting that it wasn't likely to cover her entire injury. Even still, he held it up, brandishing it as if it were a reward for her efforts.

"My name is Crimson Flash. You may call me Crimson if you want," He said in a calm voice, deciding the return the courtesy of offering ones name.

He came in front of her, his form almost a head taller than hers. Her silver locks danced in the light breeze that wandered through the ally way as it made his cape billow out around him. He spared the best smile he could, though he felt it was useless. He didn't need to calm her down. She seemed fine on her own.

"Want me to wrap your leg? It wont be much, but it can hold until I can get you to a hospital," He offered, thought at a glance, he was pretty sure the wound only needed a compression wrap. Stitches might not even be needed. He glanced at the man who was laid out against the wall he had been kicked into. Who ever this girl was, she got away lucky. It the knife had gone much deeper, it would have nicked an artery.

Crimson gave an understanding nod. He would not push the hospital subject. In all honestly, he wasn't a fan of the place himself. It would be rather hypocritical of him to force another to go to such a place. Even still, her wound needed better tending then what he could offer in the dark ally.

He filed the thought in the back of his mind to be address later before he motioned for her to sit with a wave of his hand. She complied before he pushed up the bottom of her dress just enough to see the wound. Despite this, he still felt a small blush tickle along the back of his neck. He pushed it back with a vengeance, focusing on the task at hand. He used the medical gauze to bind her wound. He was doing fine until half way down when the reel ran out. A sigh came to his lips.

He lifted her leg a bit more, eying the part of the wound that was still exposed. It was deep, but he couldn't tell how bad it was without cleaning it off. As best as he could tell, she wouldn't bleed to death before he got her home.

He set down her leg, allowing her slightly blood stained dress to fall back into place.

"I'll give you a lift home," He offered his hand to Marina to help her up, sparing a small smile, again it being useless. It was habit of his though. Smile for the civilian and make them feel calm and safe. She clearly wasn't a civilian though, so it was a mute point.

Crimson gave the girl an incredulous look at her comment. He could tell at a glance that the wound needed to be at the very least wrapped fully. When she took a step, it only proved his point when the wound gave a rather disturbing spurt of blood. Something told him this girl was too stubborn for her own good.

She reminded him of himself actually.

"I may not force you to go to a hospital, but I wont let you go home alone," He spoke with an edge of authority in his tone, his arms crossing to complete the look. Most people would have jumped at the opportunity at being given a lift in such a state. And now that he thought about it, she was holding herself together without a hint of pain. A tickle in the back of his mind began to itch. Things were starting to get suspicious. The detective in him didn't let him think of her as a wounded civilian. There was more going on then what he was seeing. His eyes narrowed on her.

She was hiding something.

He stepped closer to her, keeping his suspicion from showing on his face. He offered his hand towards her.

"Just tell me where you live and I'll get you there no problem," He said, his tone a bit clipped. He didn't trust her. He took his gaze off her for a moment, setting it on the sky and the slowly shifting moon. He didn't have time for this.

Crimson keep his eyes on the young woman. She was nervous about something and seemed rather interested in making space between him and her as soon as possible. A part of him couldn't blame her though. He was a costumed hero. Not every one took well to such people.

Somehow he could tell there was more to it then this though. Maybe he was making excuses for her, or for himself. A sigh bit at the back of his throat, but he beat it down. He would help her then leave it at that. He glanced at the sky, seeing the time again. He then cast his gave back on Marina.

He could feel her unease towards the whole situation. By her mannerisms, it was obvious that she simply wanted to be let be and find her own way home. Considering the address she gave though, she wouldn't have been able to walk there with the wound she bore.

He wasn't quite familiar with all the streets of Jump City, but he had a rough idea of where the apartment was that she had told him. He gave a glance around himself to get his bearings, mentally going over the maps he had pored through and memorized none too long ago. He finally settle in a direction, a rout calculated in his mind that was of the least resistance but still provided ample cover. He gave himself a nod as he finalized things before he stepped closer to Marina, again his forced smile on his lips.

"Here," He offered as he crouched down so she could climb on his back.