#apollo 001

Where: The Coffee Carousel

During a break in calls, Mack and the rest of the truck she rode on at the Fire station took a quick detour to pick up some lunch for the house. As they all hopped out of the truck, Mack saw a familiar face walk into the shop. As a firefighter, she had been on a number of calls involving so many different types of people. That unfortunately sometimes involved being called to the addiction center to help out. But on the plus side, it meant Mack getting to know the staff. Seeing one of the counselors from the center had just walked, Mack sped up and tapped on the shoulder, “Apollo right? Hi I think we’ve met a few times back at the center.”

Ryu had only been walking around -- come on, this city was a lot to take in! -- looking at the sights for the last while. After Britain, he had thought nothing could surprise him, but lo and behold, here was something else. He was seeing people walking around looking at little bright rectangles and some of them were saying something about Pokemon Go? What was Pokemon Go? What even was Pokemon?

Suffice it to say he was confused. He was just trying to get used to the sights when he heard a very loud sort of yelling, and instantly he jerked his head around to look toward the noise, hat almost falling off of his head. Was someone being attacked?! He took off toward it, probably a foolhardy decision but one he had hardly thought about anyway.

“He’s the condo attendant you dumb ass,” the Grace replied over the phone before hearing the cab door open and the city noises on the other end. “See you in a bit.”

The initial fear and adrenaline rush had long since passed as Aglaea reclined on leather couch, a washcloth pressed to her thigh eliciting small winces from the Grace as she continue to check on the cut. She had sprinted all the way home, forgotten her guitar case at the theater. Fear had brought her back to the safety of the condo as she collapsed against the closed door before feeling a sharp pain in her left thigh, and the smell of copper dampening the material of her leggings. It didn’t take long for Aglaea to limp to her bathroom, strip down the thin black material to find a three inch cut lining her leg with what she hoped wasn’t small shards of glass embedded inside. She cleaned what she could as red tinted the bathtub before finding a pair of shorts in her dresser. Still too terrified by the incident to leave the apartment for medical help, she had reached for her phone and dialed Apollo’s number.