engineered ego

A grunt preceded the stretch, low and unselfconscious, his spine popping as he straightened to full height. He dusted his palms against the thighs of his jeans and dipped his chin toward the back of the boutique, already moving without waiting to confirm Giovanni would follow. "Could be in the back." Rae said, voice trailing over his shoulder as he navigated the scattered remnants of the floor display with the casual ease of someone who had memorized every obstacle in the dark. "Storeroom, maybe. Stuff got kicked around in the initial rush. People miss what they're not looking for." His thumb rolled over the flashlight's ridged grip as he walked, an idle motion, the kind of thing hands do when a mind is thinking a mile a minute. He wasn't sure why he was doing this, playing guide in his own salvaged corner of the world for a man he didn't know, on behalf of a piece of jewelry with no survival value. It made no sense in the brutal world they lived in presently.

"What's the significance?" Rae asked, the question coming out half-hearted at best, floated not because he was certain he wanted the answer but because silence felt like the wrong thing to offer. He paused at the doorframe, one hand braced against the wood, and let the flashlight lead before the rest of him followed, sweeping the beam left then right out of habit. Shelving. Boxes. A rolling rack on its side. He should clean up in here. He finally glanced back at Giovanni, letting himself do what he hadn't fully allowed before, taking the man in properly without the pretense of having something else to look at. The posture. The particular quality of what he was carrying, not in his hands but somewhere deeper, behind the composure and the pursed lips of someone accustomed to having his standards met. A dragonfly brooch, of all things, in the middle of all this. He didn't say what he was thinking. But it felt ridiculous. "Watch your step in here." was what he offered instead, sweeping the beam across a scattering of broken glass near the entrance. Practical. Useful. That, at least, he knew how to be. He bent near some cardboard boxes and opened them with a knife. Flipping the box flaps back he looked at the stacked glass cases that had been tucked away inside. "Knock yourself out. I have no use for this stuff."

☣︎ - Caution. If he'd learned anything; even before the droning of the outbreak, it was to always observe. Learn habits. Recognize patterns. The art behind it was to give no insight nor hint as to what he was thinking. To the survivors, he was another trust-fund baby who was playing with his father's money. He leant into it. Some personality traits weren't difficult due to how close they were to who he was. Others? Emulated from his former peers. His gaze gently swept over what felt like every article of detail from the man to the items scattered across the boutique like some start to a jigsaw puzzle. He considered it being booby trapped. A chance for this unknown man to remove him from the board. However, there were very few tangible devices employed to enact such a tactic. The fleeting fractions of a second only led the heave of one side of his mouth askew. Disgust. How could someone of his prestige be exposed to such a state of affairs. That was all the other man would be able to make out.

That was all he surrendered.

"Missed you too, Gio. It's been really quiet around here. Eerily so. Almost like we didn't need your commentary at all." He paused as he looked around at all of his supplies, his smile going just slightly wry. "I wouldn't say this is quite at that point yet. Maybe next time? For now, this is more...you know...Band-Aid worthy."

Leo could hear it in Giovanni's voice, how pompous he always was, and if Leo wasn't currently taking care of another patient, he would've probably gone for one of his own jokes at Giovanni's expense. There was always fun to be had when he had someone to barb with. "You're all good here, Mr. Jones, just take it easy for the next day or two." He gestured toward Giovanni. "And ignore anything he has to say. He's still delirious from whatever he's caught. Isn't that right?"

He waited until Mr. Jones had left before he glanced over at Giovanni and smirked. He slowly stretched his arms out and popped his back as he finally relaxed into his seat. The room felt quiet without anyone else in it. That was definitely different than what he was used to. "Gio, instead of just standing there, looking pretty, why don't you make yourself useful. I need to practice giving physicals, drop those pants. Do you want to do the squeeze-and-cough, or would you prefer the finger? I'll be gentle, unless you're not into gentle." The wink he added was just for good measure as he snapped the latex glove he had on against his wrist.

☣︎ - "It's Giovanni. Not Gio." Though his eyes ventured elsewhere, his tone was pointed. Direct. He hated nicknames and petnames, equally. It was reductive. Minimalizing. Often felt more like a mask than an actual identity. For him, he should lean more into the fabulous reality of comradery but he was aware of their situation. Most of them would be forgotten the moment the situation was controlled by the band of the military and conglomerate of brilliant minds under allied thumbs. He took a sharp inhale as his gaze made a slow progression toward Leo. Exaggerated and exhaustive. Giovanni was a bit much for anyone. But being a phenomenal force required great force. Band-aid? For those minor scrapes? Seemed like it was a waste of a resource. However, the topical relief provided to the adhesive strip of 'sterility' would provide the same coverage as smoothing over a wounded ego. In a sense, he understood the use of a morale boost. Didn't mean he had to support it. Giovanni scoffed. He probably would've cleaned the site with whatever pure antiseptic they had on hand. Pain-included. Then he would've sent him upon his merry way.

But that was also why he was generally saved for more serious situations.

The mall was never fully quiet. That was something he'd learned fast. Even at this hour there were sounds threading through the corridors. Someone's cough two units down, the distant clang of the generator room, footsteps on the upper level that could belong to anyone on watch. A building full of people learning how to be neighbors with strangers. He understood the concept. New York had run on it. New York. He didn't let himself sit on that long.

His unit was one of the mid-corridor storefronts, shallow and narrow. It was a former boutique he'd quietly appreciated for its single door and singular window facing the main concourse. The lights he kept off by habit. Easier to think. Easier to work. The others had learned not to read anything into it. The coil seated between his fingers. He tilted his head to redirect the beam and reached for the next piece without looking, muscle memory doing most of the work by now. That was when he registered the shift.

Raejun's hands stilled above the radio's open back panel. His eyes lifted slowly from the work, beam leveling out across the cluttered floor toward the door. He stayed like that for a moment, reading whatever he could from the shape of it. Then, without taking the flashlight from his mouth. "Hmn." A low sound, more acknowledgment than greeting. Then, despite the plastic muffling every consonant into something soft and rounded, "You need 'omething?" The words came out flattened, the s lost almost entirely, the question mark surviving mostly in the lift of his brows rather than his voice. Hands still hovering over the radio.

☣︎- Need? The word echoed in his mind as he found something other than whatever the guy was fidgeting with. From observation, Giovanni would've surmised that this was his way of distracting himself from the situation thrust upon their laps- the dire situation. Grim. His lips pruned as his gaze shifted from the man to the condition of the boutique's former glory. He'd sigh. Such a wonderful little cozy corner converted to this one's little sandbox. He drew air in a soft inhale, masked by the folding of his arms as he embraced himself. He retraced several instances of what he thought he'd remember of the arrangement before returned his judgmental gaze upon the mess scattered upon the floor.

Leo pressed his lips together against another sharp hiss as he carefully wiped an antiseptic pad over one of several small, but nasty cuts on his patient. He could see how bad they must've hurt; even as careful as he was with cleaning and wrapping each of them, it was obvious that each swipe hurt. He couldn't help but sympathize, especially considering how tired he was himself. It'd been nearly twenty-four hours since he had last slept, and while he wasn't complaining, that didn't mean he was ready to keep going at this pace. It seemed like he'd only managed to close his eyes when a call came through, and he'd found himself being pulled from bed to patch someone up.

From what he was told on his way out of his bedroom, and as far as he could tell by looking at him, there hadn't been any attacks in quite some time, but that didn't mean that everything was always safe. They were far too close to cities and other metropolitan areas that hadn't fared as well to ever assume that things were safe. All it took was one small break, one wrong move, and that was it.

And Leo knew that from experience. He'd nearly lost his life when everything went south, and if it wasn't for his skills in self-defense, he was certain he'd have never made it this far.

"I don't know what you've been doing to get this roughed up," he teased as he pressed his palm gently on top of one of this guy's many cuts, hoping that it would dull some of his pain as he finished cleaning him up, "but it looks like you had fun."

He flashed his patient his best, brightest smile, even as he carefully cleaned out and covered each of his many injuries. He was exhausted, and even as his fingers continued to move, it felt like everything else in him was slowing down. "I don't mind being woken up, you know," he murmured as he placed his last bandaid. He sat back and regarded his patient for several seconds, brows pinched slightly with worry. "But next time, try to be more careful, alright? I'd like to sleep every once in a while."

Leo had just managed to lean back to finally rest against his own chair before he caught himself slipping, eyes starting to close, and he jumped back up into action, wiping his hands and putting away all of his supplies. The last thing he wanted was to fall asleep with a patient. The longer he could keep himself moving, even just for another ten minutes, was for the patient's benefit more than his.

☣︎ - Oh look, we've got a live one. Giovanni's back was turned from the commotion transpiring behind him. He took an exaggerate sip from the canteen, drinking the barely chilled water to quench whatever thirst that began to cling to the dryness of his throat. His eyes were trained on the wall, careful not to react too swiftly as he if composure was necessary to build a particular reputation with the survivors. That way they knew less and would make requests within the same threshold. He peeked over his shoulder, curious as to the direction of the conversation. A lover's quarrel? A careless exploit? Something intriguing was necessary for him to continue his wandering mind and listening ears.