Adelle. So far as he was concerned the building ‘stood’ (and he used the term loosely) as a monument to man’s primal stupidity. For the life of him he couldn’t fathom why someone would put their heart and soul into such a grandiose product only to allow its decimation three years later. Ghosts, heh. He spat the remnants of a long-spent cigarette to the gutter. It didn’t make any sense, really, though society’s fear of the unknown continued to amaze and appal him in turn. Who would’ve thought that a few creaky floorboards or a leaky faucet could be the undoing of an entire hotel? A faint snort of disbelief escaped his nostrils as he settled back on the opposing street. This section of town had long been shut up with 2x4’s and metal shutters - a ghost town, circa 1950, in the middle of a thriving metropolis.

Shuddering, the young man pulled his arms a little more securely about himself - idly debating whether or night he might withdraw a second cigarette. Deciding, at length, against the action he turned his sights to the hollowed confines of the building. What hadn’t been scorched beyond recognition had been torn away from the shell of the monstrosity, leaving wide, gaping holes along the face of the hotel. It was a little bit eerie, he’d admit, likening it to that one scene from Silent Hill… God damn, he hated that movie; and with the thought of light-sensitive, deformed and homicidal ‘nurses’ crawling after him - he fled the scene at a respectable pace.

But he didn’t go far, of course. Instead, he simply altered his course around the building’s flank for a better view of the thing’s former glory. To the west the sun had just begun its decent and a pale golden light had flooded the rear of the hotel. It seemed significantly less frightening this way and he stopped a while to overlook the Adelle in her sad and sorry state. In a way he felt quite ashamed, as if he alone had been guilty of her destruction though this was quite impossible. He laid the blame to his grandfather and though Ignacio had seen the man only a handful of times before he’d died four years ago, every encounter had been pleasant if not down-right phenomenal. Alfonso deVecchi had been an architect and he couldn’t help but think the man would weep for such a catastrophe - so great was his love of design and creation.

The barest hints of a smile contorted the corners of his lips as he made a temporary home for himself on a pile of rubble. Naturally, the majority of the debris had been organized and carted away - swept under the rug so to speak, but the bits and pieces nearest the hotel hadn’t yet been touched. He imagined that if they hadn’t been done away with by now - fifty years later - they would remain quite a while yet. Nothing in this section of town had been touched since 1950 something, he surmised; all of it maintained that semi-ancient and foreboding air. But who would bother to come fix it up? If the townspeople had been so weary of it then, what would draw them now?

Nothing.

It wasn’t as if Ignacio minded, of course, as this proffered him a place of his own to sit and think (on the rare occasion he felt it necessary to do so). For the time being he was content to marvel in the building’s decrepit magnificence, content to wonder what it might look like inside. Not once had he ventured within the hotel though the concept had crossed his mind more than once. He imagined he might do so one evening out of sheer boredom or spontaneity, although he didn’t think he’d feel comfortable enough to do it alone…

Deciding, at length, that he’d squandered enough time brooding over the remains of the hotel the young man rose to his full and mediocre height. Hands rubbing loosely against the thighs of well-weathered skinnies he stole a final moment to stretch and compose himself with the signature vacant expression. But something caught his attention as he made to break away, a faint noise emanating from the depths of the old hotel. Something creaked, the consequence of whatever had made the sound crashing to the floor. It was probably the rats or something, he decided offhandedly, picking his way carefully around chunks of concrete and obtuse wooden planks. But there it was again.

Stalled in his tracks the young man had little choice but to turn. This time he could’ve sworn he’d heard someone scream, the voice distressed and feminine. To be quite frank, this was starting to freak him out a little, yet with twilight settling heavily about the man-made ghost town he couldn’t turn away. What was he going to do then? Opting for the only sensible course of action the mottled blonde retrieved a cigarette from the rapidly depleting pack, lighting it as he strode toward the Hotel’s half-hinged doors. He wasn’t sure what the hell had gotten into him; he knew this was dangerous, stupid even - but what did he have to lose? Almost as if the thought had just kicked in he shrugged for no one in particular, batting away a cobweb as he stepped over the threshold.

“Can somebody help me?!”

The lobby had spanned a rather impressive length at one time though it was not the architecture nor the design of the place that had truly captured his attention. About halfway through the room a single leg hung limply from the ceiling. “Sweet jesus,” he muttered under his breath, gaze drifting upward to meet the cries of anguish and the awkwardly placed appendage.

“Help!”

Snapping from his stupor Ignacio took a stiff jog toward the staircase, instinct kicking in as he took hold of the situation. On his way he made certain to avoid the unfortunate looking steps along the flight, occasionally having to take them three at a time - just to be safe. When he finally hauled himself to the top landing he encountered an equally curious sight. “Now how the fuck did you manage that, peaches?” the man inquired, almost thoughtfully as he fought for a solid grip on the banister. As badly as the situation had caught him off guard he wasn’t a complete idiot and if the corridor flooring wouldn’t hold a pretty thing like that - it sure as hell wouldn’t hold him.

“Understatement of the year, if you ask me,” he supplied with a slight grunt, moving a cautious foot forward to test the floor. The weary boards gave a faint groan beneath the pressure but stood as firm as decaying wood could possibly be. On this end it might hold him for a few steps but he didn’t trust it a whole lot further than that. Maybe if he stuck closer to the railing? And though the girl hadn’t actually asked for help beyond her initial cries for assistance - it wasn’t like he was going to abandon her there. As much of an asshole as Ignacio was reputed to be he wasn’t going to let a lady fall to her death in an old, dilapidated hotel. But how did he get her out? That was the tricky part.

Withdrawing the cigarette from his lips he took a moment to survey the situation. So there’s a cute girl stuck in the middle of a floor that will barely sustain her weight, let alone his as well. Obviously, she’s caught pretty good and by the looks of it, moving causes her some great discomfort. A snort. He’d imagined that he’d be pretty uncomfortable too if he was stuck in the middle of a hallway… literally, stuck in a hallway. Oh, of all the days to be caught in this section of town - fortunately for the aforementioned damsel in distress. Unfortunately, however, a feasible solution was slow in coming.

“What’s your name, peaches?” when the going gets tough, the tough get talking - such was his motto. Besides, he’d read somewhere that communication typically kept the victims of horrific accidents calm, well - scratch that - he’d probably seen it in a movie or an info-merical. Ignacio didn’t read much these days so that was totally bogus. Or maybe he just liked the sound of his own voice; at any rate, he was hoping it might keep her occupied while he tried to figure a way out of this predicament. “And why’s a pretty thing like you skulking around in here? This shit’s dangerous,” couth as always the young man tossed his still-lit cigarette to the landing, grinding its remains into the old wood before advancing.

White-knuckling the railing he took a single step forward, balancing his weight toward the perimeters of the corridor. He was nervous - who wouldn’t be in this kind of situation? A single misstep could send them both hurtling to the lobby below. Unsurprisingly, he didn't seem the least bit worried. Years of careful practice had robbed him of his ability to convey honest emotion and he exuded every bit of callous courage he so severely lacked for the time being.

“Well, no offence, Audrey,” he started in what might’ve been bemusement were it not for their current situation, “but you don’t look like you’re going much of anywhere without my help.” Still pseudo-confidant as ever he paused a moment to grimace. By now he could almost reach her, if he leant forward he could probably grab her hand but the strain underfoot was tangible now. Every stepped elicited a groan from the decaying corridor and he knew he’d have to be even more cautious now at this distance. And despite his rather callous façade a cold, but minor sweat had broken out across his temples.

Only as he approached the girl did he finally realize how stuck she really was; this presented problem number two. If only he could get close enough to shatter the boards. His weight would be more than enough to do so, but how did he get there without sending them both through the floor In the process? Chewing at the edge of his lip, Ignacio stole another moment for hesitation. Unfortunately, he’d left his cell phone in his car parked a half from the hotel; calling someone of greater authority or skill was certainly out of the question.

“I don’t suppose you came across any other exits in here, yeah?” he inquired hopefully, taking another step. Maybe they could go backward instead of forward, though the wood didn’t look particularly sturdy on the opposite short of its victim. Another step. Crack! “Jesus,” the man hissed, foot recoiling immediately as the floorboards threatened to give way underneath him entirely. A hesitant chuckle pursued the moment as he settled his weight gingerly on a new section of hallway. Looking only mildly concerned he inched closer; realistically, he wanted to vomit in fear.

Heights didn’t normally bother him… This was screwing with his head for some reason - perhaps it was the thought of imminent death, or more aptly, the all-too vivid image of plummeting to it. But for now the rail had held steady, the only constant for the time being, and he continued to approach the girl - slowly but steadily. And when he’d moved to within a couple feet of her he sought a relatively sturdy footing, one hand on the banister - the other extended toward Audrey. “So here’s the plan, peaches,” despite knowing her real name he would still deploy his own, of course. “I’m going to try… and kick out the floorboards around your leg there, so move as far as you possibly can to the other side, alright? But take my hand just in case… Y’know. Shit happens, am I right?”

Grasp tightening around the slender wrist of his compatriot the man slunk another inch forward, wincing in the wake of her agony. “Now, now, you’re only going to hurt yourself if you do that,” he murmured, sizing up the relation between Audrey’s leg and the hole it’d created. There looked to be less than half an inch of space (maybe less) even with her weight pressed to the far side of the obnoxious gash. If he broke the floor too close, it might accidentally force the upturned bits of board into her thigh. For obvious reasons he wanted to avoid that at all costs.

Sucking in a deep breath he settled one foot lightly alongside the hotel’s would-be victim, measuring out an appropriate distance. Snap! Bringing the heel of his foot down hard on the floorboards they shattered and gave way, sending the partial blonde lurching before he could regain his hold on the banister. It couldn’t have been more perfect and the Italian proffered up a noise of self-appointed triumph despite the hammering of his heart in his chest. He’d managed to widen the gap a considerable amount without destroying the floor completely - giving Audrey just enough room to wiggle free.

Even now he refused to relinquish his hold on the girl though he eased back another half-step to alleviate the strain his weight had caused upon the hallway. They didn’t need her falling through again; he doubted very much that her leg could take the strain of another collapse - if she could walk on it at all for the time being. Brow knit in something akin to concern (the first time he’d displayed such a sentiment in years) Ignacio bent forward slightly to gauge the circumstances. “You gonna’ be able to walk on that leg of yours? Looks pretty iffy to me.”

Despite his mediocre stature, he’d carry her out of the damned place if need be - and this was behaviour that anyone who knew Ignacio would have to question. Rarely did the man go out of his way to help people, even those he knew particularly well. So why, then, was he assisting this total stranger? Hopefully no one would find out. Hopefully there would be no stupid questions…

ooc; lol, shitty post. sorry. >__<

Watching her wriggle herself free from the gap in the floor was probably one of the most painful few moments of his life. Watching her hobble to the railing was just as difficult. There was no way in hell she would be able to walk out of here - not on that. The thought alone was making him a little nauseas. Or was it the sight of her leg? Blood - the sight, the smell, the thought - had always made him sick to his stomach, a surprising quirk for anyone who acted as tough as Ignacio did. Regardless, there were bigger fish to proverbially fry and he maintained a rather solid grip on the female as she inched toward the railing. Only when she’d reached the banister was he able to breathe a sigh of relief.

Audrey was looking pretty rough by now - he couldn’t blame her; he didn’t think he’d be in much better condition after falling through the second floor of an abandoned hotel. But where did they go from here? Capturing her questioning gaze for half a moment, the mottled blonde offered her a half-hearted smile of reassurance. He wasn’t sure what to do, exactly. Now that she’d been rescued from the jaws of the floorboards how did they get out? Did he risk the rest of the corridor in hopes of an alternative exit or make the perilous trek down the nearest flight of stairs? Pulling him from his mildly frantic thoughts was the girl’s voice, thanking him for what he had assumed would be common sense. He didn’t really deserve her appreciation but he accepted it with a subtle shake of his head. “I’m Ignacio,” he supplied in response to her previous remark. Under any other circumstances he might’ve made a snide comment, something real smart-ass but for the time being he didn’t have the creativity for as much. Personally, he was still concerned with getting them out of here alive.

“I think our best bet is still the staircase,” the man declared, gesturing toward the flight from which he’d emerged a few moments earlier. Turning his attention back toward his significantly less distressed damsel the worried at his lip. Now how did he go about this? Obviously she couldn’t walk so he’d have to carry her but would the floor hold both of their weight combined? It was a chance he’d have to take he supposed, albeit nervously. When he spoke, however, there was nothing in his voice to make anyone believe that he was frightened in the least. “So this is probably going to hurt a lot, but it’ll make it easier to manoeuvre in case we run into some serious shit,” it would also make it much easier for him to carry Audrey out of her. Unfortunately, she hadn’t been stumbled upon by an iron man. Ignacio wasn’t much larger than your average woman himself. And with as much caution as possible he helped Audrey into position - piggy-backing her across the hallway.

The going was slow as he snaked along, stalling for moments at a time when the boards gave an incredibly questionable squeal or he could hear something snap. Even the stairs were a little more treacherous this time around, though he managed - at length - to combat their dangers successfully. He didn’t think he’d ever been more relieved to hit solid ground than he was now. “Safe and sound, peaches,” panting but content the young man tossed his head, relieving the kinks in his back and neck all at once. “Now how about that leg? Hospital worthy?” Looking over his shoulder as he spoke, he sought Audrey’s gaze - afraid that putting her down might cause more harm than good.


ooc; power-playing out of ten. lol. if you want me to change anything, let me know.

So what did he do now? Worrying at his lip, the partial blonde shifted from one foot to the other - attempting to ignore the awkward weight of carrying another person. It was kind of embarrassing, really, the fact that he found it difficult to carry someone as small as Audrey. But he wasn’t about to throw her off and make her walk to wherever she was going. Well, he supposed that wherever she was going - she wasn’t going alone. Call him an asshole any other day of the week, but he wouldn’t just leave her there to fend for herself with a brutalized leg. Grunting slightly (an attempt to disguise his growing discomfort) he set out across the floor of the hotel. “We should probly’ get you to a doctor,” he supplied casually, aiming for the entrance he’d used previously.

Was it doctor worthy? Judging by the amount of blood and her faint whimpers - he assumed so. Even if it wasn’t, it was always better safe than sorry, yes? He wouldn’t really know, of course; Ignacio hated the hospital more than anything and his few brief stints in them were spent in a total daze. He screwed up and he paid for it - usually without medical assistance. However, Audrey looked like she might need a few stitches or something - at least a check up, if nothing else. The gash looked pretty nasty, prone to infection or some such; picking up the pace he did his best not to jar her too badly. She’d been through enough in the past half hour.

Fortunately, his car was parked nearby and the trip was relatively uneventful. Fumbling for his keys he unlocked the front door, pushing it open to the obnoxious squeal of well-weathered hinges. “Alright, peaches,” he murmured, going to ease her from his back. He kept a light hand on her shoulder just to keep her from tumbling to the ground. Reaching up to brush the violent swath of bangs from his forehead he grimaced, taking note of the angry scarlet staining his hand. There were probably blood stains all along the hem of his shirt; thank god he’d thought better of donning his favourite apparel this morning. “Jesus… And you haven’t passed out yet. I’m impressed..”