They wouldnāt have taken it, would they? The infected obsessively pursued fragments, driven by whatever strange virus had overridden their mental faculties, but that? Why would they? It didnāt look thatĀ similar ā it wasnāt even the same shape or colors, though it was similarly small with an odd shiny surface, so maybe to their addled mindsā¦
Even if they had, though, he couldnāt go chasing down every infected in the city in this state. Norman straightened up to lean on the iron pipe that had become his constant companion, even more so now that heād managed to twist his ankle while retreating from an unfortunate run-in with them earlier. That was when heād lost it, as far as he could figure. His Triplicata had been in his pocket, last heād checked, but most likely it had been jostled out of his pocket sometime in his desperate escape.
He had taken a fall, and had forced himself to get back up and keep running despite the pain in his leg. The damage didnāt seem to be terribly extensive, but he still found it rather painful to walk on. It had seemed best to retreat and rest it for now, but he knew for a fact the residential district would be more risky to pass through in order to get to his room, with so many passing through with fragments to deliver them to the drop point. Heād thought to see if he could contact his servant with the device, for him to come and make sure that Norman could make it there safely, butā¦
Heād doubled back as soon as heād realized it was missing, just a bitĀ panicked. The object had been a lifeline: map, means of communication, monetary exchange⦠Who knew if it could even be replaced? Lucky him, the area where heād fallen had cleared out enough to search reasonably safely, but it was a larger area, out in the open, and he couldnāt remember exactly whereĀ heād fallen. Where could it haveā¦
The boy had looked under and around cars, along the gutter on both sides of the street (he desperately hoped it hadnāt ended up down one of the drains somehow), along the sidewalk ā nothing. Not a trace. He heaved a sigh and cast one last glance around him, along the still empty sidewalk. Maybe if he searched further upā¦
And, as it had been for the past hour, luck seemed to be dead set against him. Norman started to limp his way up the street, reluctant to place too much weight on his leg, and caught sight of another young man. Not an especially notable fellow, apart from the enormous scythe he bore ā but that had become a rather typical sight, Norman thought, a little ruefully. He would have passed the other by had he not seen him bend down to pick up somethingā¦smallā¦and blue⦠Ah.
Well, best not to let his frustration show. He put on a polite smile and tried not to act in too much of a hurry making his way toward the blond. āExcuse me! Iām sorry. Thatās mine.ā
āI dropped it earlier. Ah, my name is Norman, if youād like to double check that it really belongs to me.ā He offered a little chuckle.Ā āIt would really be unfortunate for someone to try to steal a Triplicata, wouldnāt it?ā To steal someoneās identity, and funds, and lifeline, essentially crippling them.Ā But you wouldnāt do that, would you, Mr. Scythe? Of course not!
Not that Norman was entirely sure what he would do about it if the other did decide to pull something like that. Heād almost have preferred that the infected ended up with it⦠They were a bit easier to deal with than the business end of a scythe, that was for sure.
Ā Ā Ā Oz has been wandering around enough that heās grown tired of it, but it isnāt like he can stop midway. Well, he probably can, but Oz is a stubborn sort and had promised himself heād see this whole fiasco through until the end. It wouldnāt sit well on his conscious if he just stayed inside the entire time and waited for danger to pass. With no one around to really talk him out of his more self-sacrificing and dangerous behavior, recklessness is only added upon tenfold.Ā
Ā Ā Ā Though alone, heās been doing well for himself ā at least thatās what heād like to think. Not as injured as he could be with bruises lining his sides and a few scuffs here and there. Itās nothing he canāt bear through, however. The scavenger hunt for Saint Fragments has been going well for Oz; he has always been good at finding things, used to paying attention to small details and the like. He was always an expert at hide and seek because of it.Ā
Ā Ā Ā Out of the corner of his eye, Oz sees a faint shine that could easily be a Saint Fragment, but when he decides to inspect it closer, he quickly discovers that it isnāt so. He wonders what a Triplicata, of all things, is doing on the ground. Definitely not a safe place for it to be, but he supposes someone could easily lose track of theirs with all the chaos in the city at current. His is still snug in his own pocket, somehow not lost despite all the activity and movement heās been going through today.Ā
Ā Ā Ā Near immediately after he decides to pick it up, does he hear a voice near himself. Itās a little startling, if only because now isnāt a good enough time to sneak up on anyone. Though itās his own fault for not paying more attention and listening more closely for footsteps. He just hopes they didnāt see him startle slightly.Ā
Ā Ā Ā Oz doesnāt expect to see someone younger than him, but thereās more genuine curiosity than surprise on his face as the boy speaks. He doesnāt take the other for a liar, especially when the final statement is spoken. Though Oz isnāt sure if thatās mentioned to further his own validation as the rightful owner of the Triplicata or dissuade Oz from possibly stealing it. He hopes it isnāt the latter. Oz doesnāt think he looks much like a thief of any sort.Ā
Ā Ā Ā āIām not going to check, I believe you.ā Itās not naivety that leads him the decision, more so because Oz knows a liar when he sees one. Itās just something he learned to pick up growing up in the environment that he did ā where everyone smiled nice and told pretty lies for their own gain.
Ā Ā Ā He holds the Triplicata outward, keeps a loose enough grip on it so the other knows he isnāt lying about just simply handing it over. Oz uses this time to take a proper look at the boy, sees him leaning on the pipe in a way reminiscent to how Oz leans on the handle of his scythe when heās feeling particularly tired but doesnāt want to be without protection. Itās a little concerning, that and his solitude. Oz has always had a heart too big for his chest to hold, too much kindness and concern for complete strangers. He could never help it, no matter how many times he was advised against it.Ā
Ā Ā Ā āYouāre hurt.ā He states rather than asks. He isnāt sure of the injury involved and how bad it is, but hurt is hurt either way. That coupled with walking around here alone doesnāt bode well for anyone. āIām not going to assume that you need my help, but Iām offering it if you do.ā