[indent][b][u]2:39 AM - January 9th 2026
The Angel Nightclub, Hub City[/u][/b][/indent]

Shams smiled as she heard a voice on the other end. Well, less a smile and more a twitch. She tried to put the phone to her ear, but it fell from her hand as her fingers gave up trying to hold it. It landed on her chin and bounced to the ground near her face, thankfully. She was too sore everywhere else to notice what was probably going to be a bruise on her chin, so silver linings. Even having holes in your abdomen can have a silver lining.

She turned her head to look at the phone, from here she didn't think the microphone would pick her up. Dammit. Well, this was going to be fun.

She tensed her muscles in preparation. Immediately she felt pain like nothing else she'd ever felt. Her side burned, god it burned, her head throbbed, her arm though, that was the worst of all. Something inside pulsed, like something was out of place. She put a hand over it, feeling the muscle push against her palm then retreat. Then it attacked once more. Just a twitch, she wasn't broken just yet. She squeezed the flesh tightly, just preparing for what she had to do next.

She swallowed one last breath, then pushed up. Her teeth felt like they were about to smash with how hard she barred them. She worried that someone might come to finish the job with how loud she was growling. She stuck to the ground, she hadn't bled that much had she? She felt the inside of her skin touch pavement, you know something's gone horribly wrong when you feel that; definitely a unique experience that few get to go through, that one.

[i]One last push,[/i] she thought as she felt concrete slide across her wound, tearing a bit of skin with it probably. She took a deep breath, planted her hand, and pushed with a roar. Finally she rested on her side, after what had been the most difficult adjustment she'd ever made. Well, second worst after her favorite toilet paper rose in price.

Why was she thinking about toilet paper? Well, she [i]was[/i] in a pool of her own blood deep enough to drown a poodle, so it was forgivable to want one or two napkins.

[color=blanchedalmond]"Oscar... Angel..."[/color] was all she could get out through the pain. He would figure it out, it wasn't like the name of the nightclub was too cryptic for him to figure out.

Shit, she hoped.