Light Needs Help! [And yay he got it! Complete!]
TITLE: Light is injured and needs help!
CHARACTERS: Light failed_god_kira & anyone else!
LOCATION(S): Lobby & Hospital hopefully
SUMMARY: Light was beat up and needs help getting medical attention.
RATING: PG? Might be swearing?
OTHER: Someone please come help Light! Please!
After being punched in the face, kicked in the stomach, and having his face smashed into the ground, Light wasn't capable of much. He waited until he was sure Yoh had left before emitting a long low groan of pain. For quite some time after that he continued to lay face-down on the floor, gathering his strength. Light tried to take a deep breath only to find he couldn't. He coughed convulsively and violently, which made his chest hurt even worse.
Light curled in on himself, rolling onto his side as he did so, hugging his chest and moaning soundlessly. Blood streaked his face and puddled under his cheek, seeping into his collar, coat and hair. He reached down, fumbling in his coat pocket for the gadget. It tumbled out and clattered to the floor. He opened it and typed one-handed, having long ago memorized the buttons, should he ever find a need to type with closed eyes.
I am in need of assistance. If someone could please offer their aid, I would be very grateful . . .
CHARACTERS: Light failed_god_kira & anyone else!
LOCATION(S): Lobby & Hospital hopefully
SUMMARY: Light was beat up and needs help getting medical attention.
RATING: PG? Might be swearing?
OTHER: Someone please come help Light! Please!
After being punched in the face, kicked in the stomach, and having his face smashed into the ground, Light wasn't capable of much. He waited until he was sure Yoh had left before emitting a long low groan of pain. For quite some time after that he continued to lay face-down on the floor, gathering his strength. Light tried to take a deep breath only to find he couldn't. He coughed convulsively and violently, which made his chest hurt even worse.
Light curled in on himself, rolling onto his side as he did so, hugging his chest and moaning soundlessly. Blood streaked his face and puddled under his cheek, seeping into his collar, coat and hair. He reached down, fumbling in his coat pocket for the gadget. It tumbled out and clattered to the floor. He opened it and typed one-handed, having long ago memorized the buttons, should he ever find a need to type with closed eyes.
I am in need of assistance. If someone could please offer their aid, I would be very grateful . . .