[closed]

[deletar]

WHO: Tickles Mitch and Hot Cross Buns.
WHAT: Wounds need tending.
WHERE: Cross's place.
WHEN: After the return, in piss-poor shape, of Cross's team.

Comments

[deletar]

"I thought I said don't move," Tyki admonished, but it was an absent-minded statement--no real accusation behind it, though whether or not Cross took it as such remained to be seen. He was such an excitable man, jumping to conclusions so quickly, although there were occasional moments where he suddenly matured in the blink of an eye. Of course, that just made him interesting, and Tyki was interested by interesting.

A natural course of things.

A natural course of things like a Noah delicately patting at an Exorcist's wounds with a wet cloth. "Hmm," Tyki said as he dabbed, with perhaps an unexpectedly gentle touch. He was not using the hand he was accustomed to favoring, but then again, he had very dexterous fingers. All ten were equally skilled. "I see that a man named after a flying rodent has progressed towards the captives. This place is truly ridiculous at times, is it now?"

Of course, he loved that too. Ridiculousness was only a matter of nature, too, and human nature at that, and whether a flying rodent could be exemplary of humanity... Well, that remained to be seen, as well.

"I'm not rubbing anything in," he went on, wringing water and blood out of the washcloth, before he returned to the task at hand. "Well, except perhaps for the washcloth."