(no subject)

 *Darnell isn’t on a case at the moment. He’s just out for a walk, satchel with him, as he’d packed himself some lunch and had a picnic at a park earlier. His notebook is sporting a few new drawings of some random people and some squirels he’d watched chase each other over a discarded snack bag they fliched from a nearby trash bin. Now he’s walking home. He takes a shortcut he often takes to his flat that takes him between two buildings. The space is narrow, but clean for an alley. Movement ahead will draw his attention. Someone ahead has blocked his path... and drawn a gun on him. When Darnell glances back he’ll find someone has blocked the path from behind as well... they too have drawn a gun to aim at him. Without preamble, they both fire. Pain rips into Darnell’s side and the world around him lurches violently. He hits the wall and then he’s falling. The ground he lands on isn’t concrete, it’s grass and dirt, and the walls are gone... it’ll be a struggle through the pain, but he’ll be able to retain consciousness... for now. Two things are for certain, he needs help, and he’s not in England anymore...*