[037] - action

[slaying]

[Buffy had never before noticed the terrifying effect of blood on snow. Especially when it was her own. In California, blood had a habit of sinking black into the dark, uncovered ground. But as she walks slowly back into the village, she winces to look over her shoulder and see the sporadic trail of bright, bleeding red behind her. There's a bad

Comments

[epicenity]

[Kuroyuri is just passing through, really, but finds themselves drawn in by the sudden smell of blood. Have a head-tilt as they survey the damage with a practiced eye, before they let out a non-committal hum.]

That's a lot of blood.

[slaying]

Well, that makes sense. I'm in a lot of pain.

[And it shows, even as her right foot slips and she slams down on one knee.]

[epicenity]

I didn't know it was proportional. Isn't it generally the more blood you lose, the more numb it gets?

[slaying]

I'm not exactly sure--[hiss]--I'm not an expert at this bleeding thing.

[canyonsiniowa]

Buff!

[ KIRK TO THE... not so rescue, but he's coming. ]

[slaying]

[It was interesting how--even through gut-wrenching pain--a voice can bring out a smile. Propped up on their shared bed, Buffy sits with her hands prone at her sides. She has been trying not to move them, setting off a chain of muscle contractions that would reach down to her stomach wound.]

Jim! [She calls as loudly as she feels she can muster, directing him towards her.]

[canyonsiniowa]

[ Kirk turns towards the bedroom and opens the door, at first relieved then worried at her state. Bandages and she looks like hell... he has to stiffle the urge to yell at the Malnosso for doing it. ]

... Buff. [ He comes over and kneels down next to the bed beside her. A hand goes up to her hair and brushes it from her face. ]

[slaying]

[Her eyes fall shut at the touch, like his hand is cold and it's a great relief to a very warmed face.]

I'll be fine. That's the official medical verdict. All that's left is healing. [Which seemed to be taking forever, although it had only been hours. She had been told that she could expect weeks of recovery. But she didn't plan on it. Whatever they'd done to her--turned off her abilities, hindered them--it couldn't last. She wasn't expecting it to.]

[slaying]

The Malnosso returned me to the wrong address. [There's a helluvalot of wincing going on. The petit blonde woman is holding her side like it holds the very essence of her being. Which, in a way, it did--considering all the red bloody stuff leaking from it.]

[slaying]

I--[groan, this talking thing isn't going so well]--live with a doctor. We just gotta get to him, okay? Can you help me to house seven?

[salvagedslayer]

[Faith is patrolling patrolling patrolling pat--

--there's blood on the snow.

Okay, so she's had bad, baaaaad encounters with large forest animals after mistaking rightful I-gotta-eat-this-bunny-or-I-starve blood spatters for holy-shit-man-down but... those, you see, are footprints. The kind made by actual people feet.

Right. Running to follow them now.]

[slaying]

[By this point, the blood and footprints leads up to the porch of House Seven, were Buffy's been carefully bandaged and set to rest.]

[salvagedslayer]

[Well if Faith were very good at rationality, she'd think "oh hey, maybe whoever's hurt is all well and fine and back where they're supposed to be."

But no, sorry, her logical pattern went straight past Go into alert alert, has this house been attacked? She bangs on the door to check for response, yelling loudly.]

Everything all right in there?

[...Well she could also kick the door down, but even Faith's learned maybe a liiiittle bit of that look-before-leaping schtick. Maybe that'd come 'round as step number two.]

[hippocraticly]

[ McCoy does not want the door to House 7 kicked in, thank you very much. He hears Faith's muffled yelling from the kitchen and goes to answer the door since Summers is bedridden under his orders. ]

Where's the fire?