AND YOU WERE THERE, and YOU were there....

[conning]

He wakes up in the wrong place. That, he knows. He knows it the same way he knows his cheek is resting against stone, the way the air tastes like night time and high altitudes.

Slowly, he blinks his eyes open, staring at the wall of the alley for several long seconds until he realizes that's what it is. He's in an alley, with cobblestone paving, with architecture that he doesn't quite recognize. Everything aches, everything, from his crown to the bare soles of his feet.

He rolls onto his side, then it's onto all fours, onto one knee, stand. He doesn't walk so much as lose his balance in a forward direction, stumbling into the street in an emerald green suit that would be quite at home in 21st century Manhattan.

Comments

[withintenfeet]

Zerxus is doing one last circuit of the city as the sun falls. It's not, technically speaking, his direct responsibility - but frankly, he has the time and he'd rather being doing something productive.

He hears Neal a few moments before he sees him, the scraping shuffle that means exhaustion or injury or both. He steps forward with a hand on the sheathed hilt of his blade, just in case.

There's no pursuing attacker or sudden ambush, just one man struggling to remain upright. That could change any second, but Zerxus likes to meet the challenge directly ahead of him first, for better or worse. His hand drifts from the gleaming silver pommel, and he reaches out instead.

"Are you all right?"