Someone get me to the doctor, someone get me to a church [Open]
who ; Jack, Jorge, 7, y One
what ; Coming back to Spartan house after getting chewed on by a mechvampire
where ; SPARTAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
when ; Right after he done got nommed good
warning(s) ; possibly gross descriptions of gaping neck wounds
Jack is pale, weak, and shaking when he arrives at Jorge's window. He's sucked one cigarette to the filter already and is fumbling with his lighter to get a second one lit. He curses the loss of Incinerate! not for the first time, when he can't get the lighter to spark.
He had draped his sweater over his unmauled shoulder to keep it out of the blood. His throat is casually wrapped in gauze, his own workmanship. His undershirt is soaked through with sweat, which gives the illusion that more blood had soaked into it than it actually had.
Cold fingers hook into the window sill and he pulls himself up with some effort. His neck protests the exertion and he can feel when the weak clots give out and a fresh trickle of blood begins to soak into the bandages. He leans against the wall with one hand pressed against the gauze and the other trying to light that goddamn cigarette.
All he wants is one more cigarette and somewhere safe to lie down and have a nap. Then he'll be back to exploring.
what ; Coming back to Spartan house after getting chewed on by a mechvampire
where ; SPARTAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
when ; Right after he done got nommed good
warning(s) ; possibly gross descriptions of gaping neck wounds
Jack is pale, weak, and shaking when he arrives at Jorge's window. He's sucked one cigarette to the filter already and is fumbling with his lighter to get a second one lit. He curses the loss of Incinerate! not for the first time, when he can't get the lighter to spark.
He had draped his sweater over his unmauled shoulder to keep it out of the blood. His throat is casually wrapped in gauze, his own workmanship. His undershirt is soaked through with sweat, which gives the illusion that more blood had soaked into it than it actually had.
Cold fingers hook into the window sill and he pulls himself up with some effort. His neck protests the exertion and he can feel when the weak clots give out and a fresh trickle of blood begins to soak into the bandages. He leans against the wall with one hand pressed against the gauze and the other trying to light that goddamn cigarette.
All he wants is one more cigarette and somewhere safe to lie down and have a nap. Then he'll be back to exploring.