TAG Étienne Blanchard
The last time he’d been out of Stronghold was when he first opened the clinic three years ago -- and that particular trip had been to pick up supplies from his barter. From that point on, they’d been delivered to the clinic, to his great preference: outside of the city was genuinely terrifying to him. Some of that might’ve just been that he was indoctrinated with the reputation that outside of the city had, but another part was his profession. Either way, he went significantly out of his way to avoid his dealings leading him outside.
But he was also a creature of integrity and when one of his connections approached him that evening and asked him to come help one of their members who had been injured outside the city -- he could not tell them no. The organization helped procure him clean supplies, antibiotics, and pain killers; they were an invaluable ally. That meant that even though he would rather have leapt off a cliff than left the city, he was still willing to go.
His contact hadn’t told him much. The explanation was simply that a high ranking member of Eclipse had been injured and that their in-residency medics hadn’t been able to deal with it. He didn’t know the full details but he’d packed supplies assuming it was probably going to be an amputation; he performed a lot of those. Sometimes he was pleasantly surprised by something less orthodox but not always. The pack was examined at the checkpoint upon exiting and his explanation was simply that he was going to help a wanderer. He was -not- looking forward to being tested upon return, though.
The drive to the Junkyard was mostly uneventful but when they got there, he was shown not to the entrance where most people were allowed, but into the part that only members were allowed. Surprising. He kept his curiosity to himself as best he could and tried not to look around and take in his surroundings.
At least, until he was taken into a room with a face he vaguely recognized.
“Blanchard?” Curious. He could not fully remember his first name. It had been a very long time since he saw him. Ten years? Maybe more? But he remembered the family. It wasn’t every day he met someone who he could speak in French to.
Posted 04-07-2021, 05:45 PMThis post was last modified: 04-07-2021, 06:05 PM by Asher Deveraux
TAGAsher Deveraux NOTES Hover over French for translation. Shitty google translate, sorry to anyone who knows French D:
He wasn't supposed to be out at all that day. He had been tasked with sitting at camp and working on filing reports for the clients they had taken care of over the winter. One thing that always came with a change of season was the need to look back over their business done the previous season. It wasn't really his job to do it — well, in a way it was, as he was required to know everything that went on in Eclipse — but his advisors had nagged him into doing it. He had been good about it, for a while... Until reports came in of a found firearms cache only an hour away from the base. They didn't normally come across such a good find now, and while suspicion had lingered in his mind hard, he couldn't help but be curious enough to slip out with some of his men, unnoticed by the other high ranking members.
Like some teenager sneaking out of their parent's house.
It had gone well — at first. They arrived at the cache location and found the rumours to be true. It was a shame the rumours hadn't also included the fact it was a feral nest. There weren't many of them, and Eclipse were generally equipped well enough to tackle small hordes of Infected. While no one had been bitten in the attack, it would be lying to say no one went unharmed. In the scuffle, Étienne had lost concentration for just a moment, and in that time a feral managed to knock a heavy shelf on top of him — still full with the firearms and everything.
It was pathetic, but of course his injury was treated with the utmost panic. Firearms cache abandoned — no doubt lost to a Military patrol that would arrive after them, or maybe a drifter colony — Étienne's men rushed him back to the Junkyard. He of course protested the entire way back, even as his entire left arm went numb and bleeding from one particular laceration wouldn't stop. A small amount of fear began to set in when he realized it hurt to move his arm and shoulder, and the numbness made his fingers tingle as he stretched and contracted his hand. In his kind of profession, losing mobility in one of his arms was just as good of a death sentence. So there he lay in bed, left arm wrapped up to stop the bleeding, waiting for a doctor to arrive, eyes squeezed shut in annoyance.
They told him he was the best. Someone that could patch him up, back to normal in no time. He was one of their best customers for medical supplies, Étienne knew that much, but he didn't know much else. A lot of their dealings revolved around confidentiality, and it was often the best way to handle things for everyone involved.
Numbness. Pain. Heat from seeping blood.
He grew anxious waiting and pushing himself upright, swinging his legs over his bed and just about to get up when—
One of the large doors to his "apartment" swung open, and his blue-grey eyes glanced up to take in whoever had arrived. He first spotted a man in typical Eclipse garb, but his attention wavered over to the smaller man standing beside him and— Oh, he recognized him.
Momentary confusion and surprised was quickly replaced by dread as the other man said his name and no no no this couldn't be happening! He really shouldn't have been as surprised as he was to have someone from his past knocking on his door — even though it's been ten years already since he had last seen his family, or anyone from his past life, it wasn't exactly a... Large world they lived in. He swallowed the lump in his throat and shook the fear from his head. It was fine. Their meeting was confidential; he had no reason to suspect that Asher would ever announce his current location to his family.
“Deveraux... Cela fait longtemps.” Aha, he still remembered his name. Étienne gathered himself to stand on his feet and greet the man, but immediately winced at the action and resigned himself to staying put on his bed. “When they told me they were getting someone to help, I never imagined it would be you.” A soft sort of fondness to his words, even if they were wrapped in cold apprehension. They had known each other once — but who's to say who changed more since they had last seen one another?
“It is good to see you.” Stilted. Wary. Was he merely putting on a display of professionalism? It was hard to say.
Posted 04-08-2021, 01:15 AMThis post was last modified: 04-15-2021, 12:09 PM by Étienne Blanchard
Posted 04-07-2021, 05:45 PM
This post was last modified: 04-07-2021, 06:05 PM by Asher Deveraux
you said i'd never be underground
