WHO: Presea (asolemnchild) and Hamlet (potentpoison) WHAT: Saving the poisoned prince of Denmark WHERE: Somewhere in the Housing District. WHEN: Day 226
Presea ran through the town with her axe in tow, grateful that the plants were avoiding her. She had no problem fighting them, but only if they attacked her.
The strange speaking individual mentioned residences, so Presea mentally ticked off places that he might be. As her current place of residence was an inn and she had not seen an odd man speaking poetry there, the second place he could be was what was called a "housing district."
A large, dangerous vine twisted away from her when she finally spotted the wounded man. Presea, for once, was grateful for her appearance. The vines cleared a path for her and she knelt down next to him, surveying his injuries. This...was not good. Blue eyes darkened considerably at the sight of the deep gashes. She knew little of first-aid techniques, but at least she could stay here with him, perhaps take him somewhere safe without being injured herself.
He raised his head as much as he could then, His eyes blinking to try and spot the girl.
"Who is it there...?" He mumbled blearily, Not yet able to recognize Presea Though they'd spoken on the journals before. He tried to raise himself up from the ground, But fell again, his limbs too weary from The poison and the blows to carry him.
"My name is Presea. Try not to move," The child advised, glancing around the area. There was no sight of the girl she'd contacted through the journals.
That was alright. The man still had some time. She frowned as she tried to recall what to do with victims of poisoning. If Raine were here, she'd know...
"Someone is coming to help. Please, try to stay awake. I can help you move part of the way...but not all of it."
Matsuri was quick to escape her own home, ignoring the light rain as she dashed through the city streets. She was careful where she stepped; avoiding the plants just as they avoided her. Despite the cloud coverage, Matsuri had on a heavy, hooded black cloak. She would have worn the Doctor's suit he'd made for her -- but the plants wouldn't have been able to see her face. They might have thought she wasn't a child. But she had to be cautious of the sun, just in case the clouds cleared up a little. The cloak would give her at least enough time to flee into shadows
( ... )
"Presea," he repeated, and looked up So that he could see her face properly.
"A child?" The prince began to think that he Had indeed already passed on, for where Else other than the afterlife would children Stop their too playful lives to help a man Who lay bloody and battered in the street?
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The strange speaking individual mentioned residences, so Presea mentally ticked off places that he might be. As her current place of residence was an inn and she had not seen an odd man speaking poetry there, the second place he could be was what was called a "housing district."
A large, dangerous vine twisted away from her when she finally spotted the wounded man. Presea, for once, was grateful for her appearance. The vines cleared a path for her and she knelt down next to him, surveying his injuries. This...was not good. Blue eyes darkened considerably at the sight of the deep gashes. She knew little of first-aid techniques, but at least she could stay here with him, perhaps take him somewhere safe without being injured herself.
"Excuse me," she murmured. "Can you hear me?"
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His eyes blinking to try and spot the girl.
"Who is it there...?" He mumbled blearily,
Not yet able to recognize Presea
Though they'd spoken on the journals before.
He tried to raise himself up from the ground,
But fell again, his limbs too weary from
The poison and the blows to carry him.
Reply
That was alright. The man still had some time. She frowned as she tried to recall what to do with victims of poisoning. If Raine were here, she'd know...
"Someone is coming to help. Please, try to stay awake. I can help you move part of the way...but not all of it."
Reply
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So that he could see her face properly.
"A child?" The prince began to think that he
Had indeed already passed on, for where
Else other than the afterlife would children
Stop their too playful lives to help a man
Who lay bloody and battered in the street?
"Do cherubs come to sing me to my rest...?"
Reply
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