DRAFT LOG #2: The Battle Game!

[lucetimods]

Who: Everyone on the draft
What: Fighting bad guys!
When: Today (after 12PM) to the 19th, in the evening
Where: The Mining Facility
Summary: It's an underground mine! And the Malnosso want you to kill and capture all the bad guys! Oh, but don't let the rocks fall on you. That could hurt.
Rating: B for BLOOD. Seriously. People are going to die. People have already died. We're not going to make it out of here. We're all screwed, it's Game Over, man!

Everything you need to know is listed here and also this way. If you haven't signed up yet and want to be on this draft, then go do it and stop being lazy!

Comments

[halftheduet.livejournal.com]

I would blame the strangeness of this place rather than anything about you, my dear. [He chuckles, leading her now into the camp, toward where his medical supplies are.]

Please, do sit.

[herotypical]

It's cool. I'm no stranger to being looked over for other, prettier, less-creepy creatures.

[ she's just counting down until sparrow figures that part out.

give her a moment to at least look resistant before she sits down. ]

[halftheduet.livejournal.com]

Do you have a change of clothes? [The question is asked as he's in his medical case and retrieving bandages. A small, small bowl of standing water-- boiled after gotten from a pool in the caves but then left-- is used to wash the wound before he begins to wrap it.]

[herotypical]

I've got one change thereof. Why?

[ wary. that cut on her leg -- he wouldn't have to cut around it, would he? horror. she smoothly (but not so secretly) slides one flat palm over that cut on her thigh. pretending it's not there. ]

[halftheduet.livejournal.com]

I can't properly bandage your leg over your trousers, my dear.

I can either ask you to remove them [which he imagined would not go over well] or I can cut the fabric just above them and you can, once I have wrapped it properly, change.

[herotypical]

[ letting him tend to the arm had been humouring him. but this? this became an inconvenience.

she shakes her head. ] Nuh-uh. The leg's fine.

[halftheduet.livejournal.com]

It needs to be wrapped, my dear, or it risks infection.

[herotypical]

I don't get infected. I'm very...infection free. Of all kinds.

[ more huffy than angry. ]

[halftheduet.livejournal.com]

I want to wash it and wrap it. Nothing more severe. [Ah, the lovely "doctor" tone.]

[herotypical]

Then I'm afraid to tell you that it takes a whole lot more than that to get into my pants. Or me out of them, as the case may be.

[ yep. she rebuffs that tone with her own seriously non-serious one. ]

[halftheduet.livejournal.com]

I will insist.

[herotypical]

...So will I.

[halftheduet.livejournal.com]

It needs to be cleaned up and wrapped.

[herotypical]

I'm not sure that's really the case. I've gone unpatched with plenty worse. Really. Honestly.

[halftheduet.livejournal.com]

Not with me as your physician. I won't allow it.

[herotypical]

[ h-hers?

her physician? ] Stephen. You're a sweet guy and I like you a lot but you're not...you -- [ she bites down on her bottom lip.

bones. it would feel like a betrayal. ]

[halftheduet.livejournal.com]

Right now, I am. Someone has to see you looked after in at least this fight, and damned if I'm going to ignore your injuries.

[And this is where we see the "insensitive" part come out. It doesn't happen often. Just... sometimes. Like now.]

Now. Let me bandage it up.

[herotypical]

[ silently, she holds out the arm. let him deal with that first while she sulked and reconsidered and agonized over the leg. ]

[halftheduet.livejournal.com]

[Stephen washes the wound carefully, applying rubbing alcohol to the cloth then the wound after. He has, at least, incorporated that into his tools of the trade.

Then, once the injury is clean, he begins to wrap the wound carefully, skilled fingers doing the work they're best at.]

[herotypical]

[ rubbing alcohol! she's so proud.

or she would be proud if she wasn't so on edge. ]

[halftheduet.livejournal.com]

There.

[That's that one.

He looks at her, those too-pale eyes focused on hers.]

[herotypical]

And that makes me as good as new. I think I'm about ready to hit the tunnels again. Thanks, really. I appreciate it.

[ she moves to stand... ]

[halftheduet.livejournal.com]

Your leg.

[Not letting that go. Not yet, at least.]

[herotypical]

Is fine. My leg is fine. Seriously. Do I need to dance a jig just to prove it? I can make it extra Irishy. This jig. Somehow. Anything to win brownie points.

[halftheduet.livejournal.com]

God in Heaven.

It will hurt no worse than wrapping your arm did. What is your great objection?