Hank focused on the canned goods, not good for weight considering he'd be fighting their diet and the storm. Good in the sense they lasted and wouldn't be ruined if/when they got soaked. Looking at his haul when Tom called out he hoped there would be something to come back to. Zipping the bag he turned as best he could, taking the crowbar back with a slight nod. Seeing Lorenzo stumble he stayed close, unsure if the other fell he'd be able to get back up between the bags and his arm. Not that he'd much help but he could at least keep him from getting swept away in the freezing water. Keeping the flashlight pointed ahead he gave a wary sigh of relief as they reached the others.

By the time they made it to the office building he had switched to autopilot, merely moving one foot in front of the other. He was only vaguely aware of the others wading through the water. Did it take this long last time? The thought slowly formed it's way through the fog that was his consciousness. Almost stumbling as he climbed the stairs he made his way to the corner of the upstairs room, slowly sinking to the floor. Leaning his head against his bag the need for sleep was almost overpowering, the adrenaline from the flight fading as the cold took over.

Christ, they must have waded through the flood waters for two hours by the time they reached the office building. Bohannon certainly couldn't tell where they were exactly, or how far from the industrial complex they had traveled. But all that mattered now was that the water here was only deep enough to keep your boots soaked, and that the building was withstanding the hurricane. This place looked like some boring office space with big clunky computers, most of which were still securely in place, and desks and paper and boardrooms. Probably nothing useful here at all, but who knew... It didn't really look like this place had seen the apocalypse.

The cowboy swept everything off a desk in the centre of the main bullpen on the (dry) second floor, gently laying Karen down on the workspace. By now, he was so cold, he couldn't even feel how cold he was. But he would not let that stop him from saving her.

"Brady get me a knife and a light so I can see what I am doing, Benson I need you to hold her down...I am afraid that this is going to hurt”

Bohannon combed the hair our of Karen's face with a finger, observing how faint she now looked. He placed one arm over her and held her tight.

...

Brady drew his big bowie knife and plunged it into the wood surface of the desk Karen was plopped on. "Let 'er go Dom. It ain't worth it. If the rip in 'er side don't do 'er the infection will. It's kinder to just do 'er now." With his two cents given, Brady walked off to check on the safety and integrity of the office building. As some of the other folks reported back that the building was all clear of the living and the dead Brady stepped into the manager's office and closed the door behind him.

The wind was still howling and the rain was still driving down. The sound was so intensely inescapable it overwhelmed Brady for a moment. He collapsed into the chair at the desk with his head in his hands and sobbed, only for a minute, before returning to his feet and regaining his composure.

Brady stripped off his clothes and wrung them out in a trash bin and hung his shirt and pants to dry on the file cabinets. Wearing only his soggy boots and his boxer-briefs Brady walked back into the main room and addressed those gathered there.. "We need to take stock of what we made off with. And somebody needs to get a fire goin'. It's fuckin' cold!" He laughed. "Can we start a fire in a trash can or somethin'?"

After hearing Brady’s words of wisdom, Dominic glared at the southerners back as the man in question headed off towards the offices before then returning his attention back to Karen “Your brother’s an ass, and he’s needs to remember that it could be him on the table one day” Dominic growled quietly to the other Bohannon brother as he carefully rolled up Karen’s shirt; moving the Zippo in close to her wounded side in order to remove any fragments of shirt still stuck inside. Personally he’d have preferred to have used tweezers rather than his fingers for such a task but then again he’d have preferred to hand her over to a qualified surgeon in a fully equipped hospital, but hey that’s Zombieland for you.
Confidant that he had removed all of the shirt fragments that he could see using the meagre light of his Zippo, Dominic gets Benson to once again apply pressure to the wound whilst he fished the metal waste paper basket out from under the desk and set about setting the trash inside ablaze, moments after a semi-naked Brady had entered the room asking to do the same thing “oui...just don’t set the place on fire” he called absently over his shoulder as he carefully placed the Bowie knife point first into the fire.
Brady was right, her chances of survival weren’t too good and yet here he was again like an idiot trying to save someone’s life using medical procedures that had been abandoned not long after the civil war. Was he doing the right thing? Or was he just causing the poor woman more pain before she then died anyway just so he could sooth his own conscience? No! She’ll live; I am not going to give up on her not whilst there’s still a chance! he silently raged whilst wondering not for the first time whether or not this was the symptom of some growing psychosis The Mad Doctor of Zombieland! he thought to himself with a smile forming on his face.
Stopping himself just short of laughing out loud in a manner that would do little to instil confidence in his patient. Dominic carefully lifts the knife from out of the fire to examine the now glowing tip “Hank! Come and hold her legs down for me and somebody get me a goddamn light!” he shouted at the huddle of waterlogged survivors within the room. Couldn’t they see what he was trying to do here? Anyone would think he was doing a damn crossword!
With Karen firmly held in place by two pairs of hands and with a torch trained upon her wounded side Dominic takes a deep before then placing the red hot knife tip upon the wound; gritting his teeth against the hiss and smell of burning flesh, and the inevitable scream that followed.

Tom kept a hold of NM's hand during the trek, partly to not get separated and partly to help take his mind off the fact they were now outside in the storm. Without everyone. The last thought he tried not to linger on instead focusing on following the people in front of him. He almost smiled as the building came into view, the promise of shelter giving him a little extra pep in his step despite his shaking frame and the extra weight of his wet pack.

Once out of the wind and rain he felt a little better, loosening his grip on NM's hand slightly as they headed through the first floor. Reaching the stairs he looked down as if realizing what he was doing. Letting go he gave the older teen a slightly embarrassed smile. Hearing Hank slump against the corner after they got upstairs he went over and pulled the supply pack off, earning him a slightly exhausted smile. Did somebody fire? Turning his eyes locked on the warming flame already started. Going around he grabbed a couple waste bins and put them in the middle of the room, not sure how long Dom would need the one he started.

Hank smiled as he felt the weight of the pack coming off, pulling his arms out the other one as his brother moved off. Looking around he became aware how few of them made it to the building. Just because they aren't here doesn't mean they didn't head off in another direction. Besides, Joe's going outlive us all. The SOB probably decided to swim out the storm. Dom's call snapped him out of his thoughts. Using the wall to stand he grabbed the flashlight and went over to where Karen was laid out. Here's the flashlight. After handing it over, or holding it out at an angle if needed, he draped himself over Karen's legs, trusting his weight more then strength at this point.

It even hurt to shiver at this point.

As soon as he had entered the office building Lorenzo shrugged his gear off onto the nearest desk possible, then just stood by it and watched the others. Admittedly not much was registering with the stocky man. His teeth were chattering. The clothes on his body were wet and heavy, like they were stuck to him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this cold. Though some of the shivering could be credited to his broken arm, which had gone from a sort of numb tingling to full on jarring, searing pins and needles stabbing all through it.

After a few moments of shivering in a sort of cloudy feeling haze he dragged a chair over to the window. He watched Dominic from his seat, wondering if cauterizing a wound was something that was still in practice. Lorenzo didn't know shit about medicine so he didn't question it. Instead, he watched with a detached, almost bored expression and patted the front of his shirt and produced his cigarettes.

It was a bit surprising to see the front of his shirt was spattered with gore- amazing, the things you can miss while stabbing a guy. He tried to take it off but only got one tattooed arm free. The other one hurt too much for him to be assed with. Holding a cigarette between his lips, he ran the lighter up and down it until it was dried, then immediately braced a hand against his injured arm again. It didn't help much.

Lorenzo leaned his head back against the wall. He'd just have to wait for his turn. The only indication he was actually awake was the shivering and the orange ember of his cigarette lighting up his face when he took a drag. He jogged his leg up and down. His dark eyes glittered in the light, which at least showed he was watching the impromptu medical procedure, but he seemed more or less unmoved.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:57, Wed 11 Nov 2015.

Luke held the flashlight for Dominic's procedure, managing to keep himself from shaking or vomiting somehow. Perhaps seeing NM literally dis-arm Sam then watching Lorenzo stab him to death had emptied him out of whatever he'd had in his stomach already.

When the hot steel hissed against Karen's flesh the mustachioed man winced violently as if the horrid procedure were being done to him. "Ah fuck!" He sputtered, one forearm covering part of his face as if it would spare him entirely from sight, sound and smell. The other held out the flashlight in place, though it trembled a bit.

Isabelle didn't want to be a burden and when Dominic relieved her of his assistance to help those more critically wounded she moved out of the way, situating against a wall, standing up. She tried not to appear too affected by the whole ordeal, and she knew it wouldn't end with Karen, as Lorenzo appeared seriously wounded as well.

Using the window's edge for balance, she shuffled past the action near the fire, feeling both relieved to have Dominic but also worried for the burden her own personal savior was going to take on.

Izzy, through her surprisingly graceful movement, ended up in front of Lorenzo. She could see the grotesque angle at which one of his arms hung, and that he was in overall rough shape despite the disaffected, aloof disposition the man tended to take on.

"What happened, Lorenzo? I know its a stupid question, but are you okay?" She almost asked him if she could get him something, but they didn't have anything, not really anything dry, either.

Mahmoud had managed to make it out with the group with his rifle not dry but not completely spoiled. When they placed themselves inside the office building's upper floors he placed his rifle against the wall, barrel up, and tried to help without encumbering the process.
Seeing Tom make himself crucially useful, Mahmoud joined the boy in collecting anything that was dry and would burn in the spare bins that Tom had gathered. "Hey, way to go, kiddo. I'm glad you and your brother are here with us." Mahmoud used to be the frazzled, awkward member of the group, but over the year he'd become increasingly self-assured, but without losing the caution needed to survive. He summoned a gentle smile towards Tom. "I'm sure once this storm has passed we can find the others." It felt like the right thing to say, whether or not Tom believed such a thing, Mahmoud liked to think the young man still had some innocence in him that was becoming so rare in them all.

Inside the office N'Mexico was not of immediate use to anyone. He was grateful for Tom's assistance in getting to the building, and did not interfere with Tom's helping in getting everyone comfortable along with help from Mahmoud.
After his near drowning he was in a bit of a neutral, complex state, perhaps akin to Lorenzo's, his principal rescuer.

Slumped against of the four stained walls, the youth reminded himself to thank Lorenzo when things had quieted down. Sam was finally gone, after such a long time following the lot of them, like Death himself. Cookie hadn't been around to help him, or anyone, and he wasn't sure how he felt about that. Dominic, Mahmoud, Izzy, they all provided continuity, but looking around at their diminished numbers NM wondered if they would be the same again.

He heard Mahmoud assure Tom they'd find the others after the storm. NM wanted it to be true. Raising two dirty hands to his face he covered up, hanging his head in his hands, trying to be anywhere but there.

In reply to Isabelle (msg # 44):

Lorenzo was glad Izzy admitted she asked a stupid question, because that saved him some time. He gave the woman a long look. His face was blank, almost slack, and it wasn't quite clear what the look was supposed to mean, if anything. He exhaled slowly through his nose, the expelled smoke making his eyes prickle. He couldn't clearly see what Dominic was doing to Karen, but he could hear well enough. Didn't sound nice.

"Yup," Lorenzo finally responded, glancing away from Izzy.

Despite drying the cigarette with the lighter, the damage was done. It tasted like crap. Granted, the age probably didn't help. He took another drag, either trying to delay talking or just really savouring the crumpled looking smoke. Every breath felt short and jittery. Watching the others, he couldn't help but think Luke seriously needed to nut the fuck up or at least quiet down, because the sight of him whimpering and whining was making Lorenzo unreasonably annoyed.

"I think my arm's broke," he continued slowly. For the first time he looked down at it and raised his eyebrows, as though mildly surprised to see the new and exciting angle Sam had rearranged it in. He let out a short, sharp laugh, and flashed a self-satisfied grin at Izzy. "You should see the other guy."

It felt like his knees were trying to lock but he rose stiffly from his chair. Honestly, it had been pretty stupid of Dominic to drag along a one-legged woman, but the guy struck Lorenzo as overly idealistic. Without a stable base they were just delaying the inevitable. Someone who couldn't rely on themselves was a liability "out there." For every person willing to tote you along, kicking and screaming, there were three ready to shoot you and kick your body into a ditch.

Opportunistic little fuckers.

He pressed his back against the wall, as though he could physically distance himself from everyone else, and inclined his head to the chair, indicating Izzy should sit. Even though he didn't talk, the look on his face made it clear the gesticulation was more of a demand and less of a request. He glanced over at Mex and let out a low, drawn out sigh.

If there was more light Tom might have tried to read some of the papers he was consigning to a fiery demise. As it was he could just imagine what was on them, contracts worth millions of dollars or just someone's doodles and notes while they were on hold. Could he have been jailed for what he was about to do? Or would he be rewarded, depending on the company. One thing he was sure of was that whoever worked here never would have thought all their hard work would one day be burned to keep a small group of survivors alive during a storm during the zombie apocalypse.

Lost in thought it took Tom a moment to realize Mahmoud was talking to him. Uh, ya. Thanks. Now that they were starting to settle in, if what was going on with Karen and a half naked Brady was anything to go by, he needed to keep his mind occupied. The others would have seen the slightly withdrawn demeanor the teen got when it stormed. Me too, I'd hate to think what winter would have been like with just the two of us. Looking out the window in the other room as a flash lit up the sky he managed a half smile, more of a twitch that could have just been from the cold, Joe probably lead them to the other trail. He sighed, stuffing a thick file into the basket he had kept with him. I wonder if this place has any wooden desks. The comment was more to change the subject then anything, but they would need more then just paper if they wanted to dry off and keep warm.

Karen was faint as the cowboy brought her up the stairs and placed her on the desk. She kept trying to speak but she wasn't sure the words were coming out. "Kaidan? Where's Kaidan? Where's my boy?" The feeling of cold rain and wind was gone from the surface of her skin. Why? Were they saved? "Kaid?"
FLASHBACK - The Fall of Atlanta
Karen and Kaidan sat in the police SUV as it meandered its way through abandoned traffic on the road out of Atlanta. Kaidan was sitting on the seat with his knees up, almost fetal. "What happened back there? I need you to talk to me Kaid, you can't shut down on me again. You can't make this go away." Karen stared out the window as she had to drive through the ditch for a couple hundred meters to make it around a pile of cars and rotting bodies. "You killed him Kaid. There won't be a day in your life where that doesn't hurt you. Believe me, I know. I've been there. And I also know that it doesn't go away by pretending it doesn't exist. Talking about it somehow makes it feel a little lighter, like you can carry it. So please, talk to me..."
“Hank! Come and hold her legs down for me and somebody get me a goddamn light!” Karen looked up, the shouting catching her attention. "What? What are you doing to me?" Karen flung her head back and forth and tried to sit up, pain ripping through her side. It felt like she'd been shot. "No, stop! Please! Please don't hurt me!" Karen fought against the two men gripping her, holding her down. "Please don't do this to me Dominic! Please!!!" The red hot knife tip pressed against the wound in her side and burnt her flesh. She yelped and passed out.
FLASHBACK - Iraq War
A United States Marine convoy raced across the desert. Karen sat in the rear of the humvee, her CO sat beside her. "You didn't kill him Karen. There won't be a day in your life where his death doesn't hurt you. Believe me, I know. I've been there. And I also know that it doesn't go away by pretending it doesn't exist. Talking about it somehow makes it feel a little ligh..." The car in front of them blew to pieces, raining down bits of sand and rock and metal, and the people formerly inside it. Karen's vehicle took the brunt of the resulting shockwave and lifted up off the road, tumbling over backwards before coming to a halt upside down.

Bohannon cringed as Dominic seared Karen's wound closed. He'd branded probably a million cattle in his life and the fact that the smell wasn't far off made him queasy. He wasn't sure he had the stomach for civil war era medicine, but that wasn't the only thing churning his gut. His own brother, the very man who shot him and left him for dead in Nashville was now telling Dominic to let Karen die. Benson wasn't the kind of guy to open up and give his heart to just anybody, but he had feelings for Karen for sure. And now Brady wanted her dead.

That's two strikes, and this ain't baseball.

The shirtless Benson released the unconscious Karen and turned to the half naked Brady. "You son of a bitch!" Benson approached him aggressively. "You tried to kill me! And Now you want to kill her!" Benson took a swing, connecting hard with Brady's nose. Blood sprayed out, catching the dim light as it hung in the air. Brady reeled back catching himself on a desk and lifting his head back to face Benson. "Fuck you! I saved you at Fort Dix, an' I saved you again today, asshole!" Brady stood. "So fuck off, we're even!" Benson swung hard again with a left hook, striking Brady in the eye, sending him flat onto the desktop, his arms braced outward on either side of him. "Fuck you Benso-" Benson hit him again, and again, and again, ruthlessly, until Brady fell to the floor like a sack of potatoes, blood seeping from every part of his face.

Mr. Cauldershore, not wanting to become involved in the many unpleasantnesses outbreaking around the office, turned to Bill and Gary for a distraction. He'd become quite fond of the two men over the month or so past and felt he was perhaps of the same mind as them in regards to the young Brady.

"Well gents, shall we slip out back to the car park and see if there are anything of use in the cars?" Bill and Gary agreed and the trio set off toward the stairs. "Oh, and would someone be so kind as to search the rest of the building with the thoroughest of eyes. There might be portions of the old employees lunches and snacks stashed away someplace. And I wouldn't be ever so surprised to find a vending machine on the premises."

[Bill, Gary and Cauldershore have faded to the background for the time being]

Dominic knew that he’d never get used to the smell of burning flesh. The first time he’d smelt it had been at a rather nasty accident on the freeway and just like that time he found himself battling to stop himself from being sick.
Dropping the now rapidly cooling knife onto the table beside the now thankfully unconscious Karen, Dominic took a moment to compose himself, fully intending to go and deal with Lorenzo’s arm. However it was at this point that the Bohannon brothers decided to have a very public falling out with the older sibling proceeding to beat the tar out of the younger one “Hey! Knock it off we don’t have the time or resources for this shit!” Dominic shouted at the pair. However when it rapidly became clear that shouting at them would have absolutely no effect he quickly moved to intervene before Brady was beaten to death “I said knock it off! Leave him Cowboy he’s down!” he shouted, trying his best to haul Benson off of his brother which considering that even an emaciated Benson was bigger than he was, was one hell of a task “...God damn it Benson Leave him! Go to Karen, she’s going to need you when she wakes up!” he continued, hoping that if he used Karen’s name that he’d be able to snap him out of it, or failing that that somebody would come and help him pull the berserk cowboy from off of his brother and preferably before Dominic got his nose broken.

After Karen became subdued a fight broke out between the remaining Southerners of the Caravan. He wasn't eager to get into harm's way but he had a personal loyalty to Dominic after the other man got him out of the town of Slaughter in one piece. Turning off the flashlight he tucked it into his pocket for the moment and jumped in when Dominic began grappling with the Brothers' Bohannon.

With Dominic seizing one of Benson's arms, Luke clamped on to the other, assisting in prying the winner off before they had a murder in their dry space.

"What the fuck!"
This message was last edited by the player at 03:09, Sat 14 Nov 2015.

Benson was pulled off his brother by the two men. "Get off of me! Get off!" he fought against their grip as hard as he could, not wanting to be held, but he didn't go back for Brady, who lay on the floor, moaning and wiping blood off his face. Benson switched his focus to Dominic. "You remember the day back at the air base you patched up my shoulder? This..." He jabbed his finger towards Brady. "...Is the son of a bitch who shot me! Have you ever been shot Doc?" The question was rhetorical. "It ain't nice. But the worst part is that my own brother tried to kill me. My own blood!" Bohannon was shouting. "Brady stopped being my brother in that moment. I spent so long hunting him down. And when I found him, I was with you guys. I tired to change, to be better, to let all that go, but I can't!" Benson sat on the desk top. "Every time I see his face, all I see is that gun going off..." His voice trailed off.

Brady rose to his feet, spitting blood off to the side. "It's not my fault that I shot you! You were being a dick!" He rebutted, kind of without thinking. He paused and recalculated, spitting blood once more. "Ever since Dad died you were given everything. You got the farm, you got our family. I was pretty much fuckin' exiled. And then when the world goes to shit, I get stuck with you, and all of that smug, entitled bullshit gets drug up all over again. By the time you an' I got to Nashville I had had enough. I'm sorry I shot you, but you kinda deserved it." Brady finished feeling like "you deserved it" was a valid point.

Between him and Luke the pair of them finally managed to haul the cowboy from off of his brother before he had chance to beat him to death. Though from what he was told he had good cause to want the other man dead after all he had been shot by his own brother "Brady if you don't shut up and make yourself scarce in the next thirty seconds I'll give him the damn gun myself!" Dominic snapped angrily, turning on Brady as he heard what he felt were rather pathetic reasons for shooting his own brother. Hell he didn't exactly get along with most of his own family but he wouldn't start shooting them, though admittedly any family he still had would be currently in Europe meaning that he didn’t have to put that theory to the test.
Turning his attention back to Benson, Dominic drops his voice to a low growl as he spoke to him "Listen to me Benson, I cannot and will not let you commit cold blooded murder, not here with everybody watching, you understand me?” He said, asking what he felt to be a rhetorical question though no doubt the cowboy wouldn’t see it that way “We’ve already lost too many people this night, people we’re going to need if we’re ever going to find a place of our own and survive another winter, so for now at least he lives…Now unless there is anything else I have a broken arm to deal with” Dominic finishes with a questioning look on his face. He would wait long enough to see if there was anything else that Benson wanted to say and if there wasn’t he’d then head over to where Izzy and Lorenzo were currently sat.

Sorry. Hank said apologetically before turning as Dom applied the heated blade. While not the worst thing he'd smelled, it would be hard to beat the zombie that got trapped under a port-a-potty a month before they got to the fort, the sound and struggling didn't make it any better. When Karen went quiet he gave a sight of relief. Releasing Karen he turned with a start as Benson started wailing on Brady. Like most of the Caravan members he didn't know too much about the Bohannons' histories. What he did know was Brady had taken a shotgun blast for Tom, and that was enough to not let him get walloped out of nowhere. Taking a step toward Brady as Dom and Luke pulled Benson off he shot a look to Tom to stay out of it.

He was surprised to hear the reason for the fight, the idea of him or Tom doing something like that never having crossed his mind. Sure they'd had their fights, cursed each other off, occasionally getting a little physical, but he'd never been mad enough to go that far. Seeing Dom had Benson and the threat of violence had died down for the moment he moved to his brother. So, what are you up to?

Bohannon did understand. Perhaps it wasn't quite the meaning Dominic had wanted him to take from it, or maybe it was. Either way those cold words sank in to Benson Bohannon's soul. With Dom and Luke's blessing Benson moved forward towards Brady, placing a hand on his shoulder. He looked his brother in the eye. "You and I ain't been on the same page since Dad died. I think we need to talk."

Brady nodded, and went off to grab his clothes from the office. As he reentered the room he saw Benson follow Dominic towards Lorenzo and Izzy's corner.

"Doc." The cowboy said, catching up to him. As Dominic turned, Benson slipped his gun from his holster and tossed it at the medic. "Brady n' I need to work things out. I won't be needin' that." He took a step away before returning. "Thanks for helping her. I know that must have been hard for you after St. Louis an' all, but... Thanks Doc." With his gesture of good intention completed, the Bohannon brothers ventured downstairs and disappeared into the storm.

[See you in Chapter 5!]

While Tom was far enough away to avoid the worst of the smell it didn't do anything to diminish Karen's scream. Turning away he put his hands to his ears and closed his eyes. She needs it, she needs it, she needs it... Using the mantra to try and drown it out the abrupt change from scream to silence to fighting took a moment to register. Opening his eyes he turned to see Brady on the ground with Luke and Dom holding Benson back. His confusion only grew at Benson's explanation, sure Brady could be selfish but shooting Benson? There had to be a better reason then "he deserved it." After all, who just shoots their own brother?

Um...I was thinking about looking for wood chairs or tables. Stuff to burn besides paper. He had the shivering mostly under control, keeping the larger ones to a minimum.

Hank looked around as Tom spoke, watching the Bohannon brothers head out. The lack of a gun on Benson's part was only partially comforting. I'll take Luke and look. Putting an arm over the kid's shoulders he leaned in. Stay with NM, ok. We don't need him getting lost in what happened earlier. Planting a kiss on the top of his head he gave Tom slight push, stalling any complaints. Bring a basket, a little fire will do you both good. Heading to his bag he grabbed his crowbar. Luke, care to join me in firewood duty?

When it became apparent that Benson wasn't going kill his brother, or at least not right this minute, Dominic released his hold on him, signalling for Luke to do the same. After making sure that Benson and Brady were talking and nothing more he walked over to where Lorenzo was sat beside Izzy. A single glance telling him all he needed to know about the man’s injury. His arm was broken pretty badly judging from its current angle and was causing him a world of pain if his lack of colour was anything to go by.
It was at this point that Benson briefly interrupted in order to pass him his gun, Thanking him for helping Karen despite their past differences before then saying that he and Brady needed a long talk in order to clear the air "sure, it'll be here waiting for when you get back" Dominic said tucking the revolver into his waistband and watching the two brothers leave the building; suspecting that despite the lack of a firearm that only one of them would be coming back.
Stripping out of his soaking wet and now extremely heavy jacket, Dominic sets to work ram raiding the drawers in search of the items that he would need to fix Lorenzo's arm, after leaving his jacket hang on the back of a chair.
He would eventually return with a roll of parcel tape, two wooden chair legs, having smashed one of the meeting room chairs against the wall until it had shattered, and a single packet of paracetamol tablets he'd found lurking in a drawer "here take these, they probably won't do a lot but I am afraid its all I've got" Dominic said rather apologetically as he handed Lorenzo a pair of the tablets before proceeding to explain the situation to him "D'accord...the good news is it looks to be a clean break and the bone hasn't punctured the skin, bad news is that I am going to need to realign the bone" and that’s going to hurt he silently added, not that Lorenzo would need to be told that particular piece of information as he had no doubt reached that conclusion already "Izzy be a dear and hold his hand for me will you" Dominic asked, not so much to provide Lorenzo with any form of comfort but to stop him from punching him once he’d finished.
Taking a firm hold of Lorenzo’s arm Dominic gives him a look that silently asked if he was ready to go before then working the arm back into place as quickly and as painlessly as he could manage. Once the arm was back in the right position Dominic would put a splint on the arm using the tape and chair legs he'd found, fully intending to find somewhere quiet to sit down for a while once this was all over. He'd had enough stress for one night.

Scene concludes, all characters please post, when ready, in the new thread Chapter 5 - The Caravan - "And After the Storm"

There you start out with the storm's aftermath, leaving the office building. It is up to you as a group or under the direction of a leader to decide where to go from here.

OOC: Great work everyone ;)
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:20, Fri 20 Nov 2015.