I find shelter in this way, under cover, hide away

[wasblindbefore]

It's not that he isn't nervous. This whole thing is, frankly, pretty fucking terrifying, not to mention nonsensical, and though there's been an attempt at installing further security, being here isn't a guarantee of being safe. Elvis certainly feels closer to it, though, down here in the basement. There's only one way in, he has a baseball bat nearby if he needs it, and he can, hopefully, get through the night passing the time by working. If he had to guess, he'd be willing to bet good money that after tonight, there will be a pretty significant influx in business, his being probably the one line of work in which that isn't actually a good thing.

Maybe it's strange, to make a living off dead people. He's never known anything else, though, only the responses he's gotten for most of his life when talking about what his family did, what he now does. Besides, someone has to do it. It might as well be him.

At least if this has to be happening at all, he has Gwen with him to wait it out, keeping in touch with her friends who are out on the streets. It's a good compromise, he thinks, and is pretty sure he doesn't have to say. She can contribute while being inside, where it's at least relatively safe, and he won't have to spend the night worrying that she'll wind up in an alley with a knife between her ribs again, and no powers to help her heal this time.

In fact, if it weren't for the gravity of what he knows must be going on outside, this might almost be kind of enjoyable. As it is, he's not sure he could manage not to think about it, but he cracks a smile at Gwen over his work, and wonders, not for the first time, how the hell he found someone who's so alright with all of this. "What's the word from outside?"

Comments

[makeithome]

Gwen almost never comes down here. It's not out of any distaste for or disinterest in his work; despite the touchiness of the subject of death for her, it's also familiar in a way that is, at times, strangely soothing. She's a scientist and she's dealt with her fair share of bodies. It doesn't really faze her to be down here among so many. It's just more professional for her to stay upstairs out of the way of his work usually.

Tonight, she feels it a little, the strangeness of being here, knowing more bodies will come in over the next couple days, and why. She's doing her very best to minimize that number, though. She's watching as much of the city as she can on security camera feeds and trackers that the others have installed, making calls to the city's vigilantes as they hurry from one crisis to the next. It's grotesque, watching a city at war with itself, but she's doing something about it. That's all she can ask for in this madness, a chance to help.

"It's crazy out there," she says, but she glances up and catches that hint of a smile and smiles back reflexively. He's here, they're both here, and that's about as safe as it gets tonight. "But we've got a good team on the ground and so far, so good. I think they might actual deter the worst of it."