[The message takes effort to send, because Lance has to not only override the paranoia of the event but type with shaking, bloody fingers. So the typos are uncharacteristic for him, but he's not about to try to correct them.]
Kyna I'm sory to ask thisnof you but its am em,ergency and I need help.
[The text is sent with the set of GPS coordinates, and another followup message.]
Be careful, the monster Michael summonsa may be around, but I thinkits gone.
[Kyna's feeling like crap, but she's not quite in the clutches of paranoia yet, so at least she can deal with this message with a relatively clear head. Except, of course, that her heart stops when she gets it.]
[If he were feeling better he'd make a stupidly morbid joke about not going anything, but he isn't and so just sets his phone down, the flashlight giving the small room an eerie glow; there's enough room for Kyna to teleport in, but the 'ceiling' is low and uneven due to it being mostly made up of large pieces of rubble balanced against each other. The small cavern is deeper than it is tall, far enough that Lance was able to just avoid the reach of the Visitor, debris and lots of dust scattered around the place, and on the far wall opposite Lance--which is really just a pile of rubble--there's a narrow gap that's clearly the way in and out.
When she shows up, he's sitting a corner with one knee drawn up toward his chest, his injured left leg stretched out in front of him and bleeding from various lacerations, but his attention is mostly on pressing both hands against another deep cut on his left side. Now that the adrenaline is wearing off he's really starting to feel the injuries and realize how bad they are, and the reality of the situation combined with the paranoia of the event is making it very difficult to keep calm.]
[Luckily, or maybe unluckily, Kyna is used to seeing people who are badly injured. Honestly, her team gets hurt worse more than this on an unfortunately regular basis, but seeing Lance like this, obviously trying not to panic, and knowing Michael is the cause, is something else entirely. Her stomach drops as she kneels down next to him, dumping her backpack on the ground. One hand moves immediately to cover his.]
[Wow, she's here fast, and it's both startling and a relief all at once even if it takes a moment to really process that she's actually there. Right. Magic.]
It's... Bleeding a lot.
[He manages the answer in response to her first question, hesitant to take his hands off the wound in order to show her for that reason. There's silence another second or two before he remembers she asked another question.]
Just my leg.
[Which isn't great either, but the injury to his side is taking precedence.]
[He hesitates, not really needing the added paranoia of the event to cause his imagination to provide all sorts of horrible possible outcomes of taking pressure off the wound, but blood loss is already setting in and it's so much effort to resist the gentle tugging. Besides, he called Kyna for help, and so he should let her help.
But he doesn't want to look at the injury, and so fixes his gaze off toward a side wall as he allows her to pull his hands away. The cut is deep and long, bleeding seriously but perhaps not as badly as might've been expected; he'd been able to keep fighting with the Visitor for a time, after all, and now the biggest problem is that it's all adding up rather than any one particular wound being immediately life-threatening.]
[Kyna lets out a relieved sigh. That's doable. She won't be able to fix it completely, but she can definitely improve things. She gives his hand a squeeze before letting go and tugging Pelor's necklace out of her pocket.]
I'm gonna try to fix it, okay?
[She triggers the spell, watching as the wound starts to close. It certainly doesn't disappear, but the pain fades and the bleeding stops, and the lacerations shrink a bit. It's something.
God, she wishes she actually knew a decent healing spell.]
[It's definitely something, and part of Lance wants to watch it happen but the other part of him still doesn't want to look, and so he continues staring at the wall for several seconds. But he can feel the effects, especially the pain lessening down to levels he can pretty much ignore, and he's able to take a few deep breaths that help calm him further. It's okay. He's not going to die. Everything is going to be fine.
Finally, after several more seconds--more time than he thinks it's been, but less than would indicate he's completely zoned out--he pulls his gaze from the wall and back towards Kyna, then gathers up enough courage to look down at the injuries. They're still not great to look at, but the lack of bleeding is the most obvious and important thing right now, and although he's lost a lot of blood already he knows it's not so much he won't start recovering now that it's no longer worsening.
He glances up at Kyna again, a little haltingly, but manages to at least find his voice again.]
Thank you. I...
[Wasn't sure what he was going to do, or what he would've done if she weren't there and willing to help.]
I'm... I think I'm okay.
[In the sense of he's not going to drop dead or anything, although maybe not anything more than that. But he's becoming aware again that he must be worrying her, and so guilt is creeping in and he wants to reassure her at least a little.]
[He's tense at first when she hugs him, reactions and processing time drastically slowed down from a combination of blood loss and the mental haze that often sets in for him after something traumatic, but does eventually respond after a few seconds. Even though she obviously doesn't care about the blood, he's still aware that his hands are covered in it and so he doesn't return the hug, but he does let himself drop his forehead down against her shoulder.
It's belated again that he realizes she asked another question, but his answer at least has some personality this time as he responds dryly--]
[Now that she knows he's going to be okay, the panic is starting to subside, though largely because anger is edging it out. She reaches up with her clean hand to stroke his hair absently.]
[His hair is a little dusty and full of small pieces of debris from the Visitor's attempt to knock a hole through the wall, but he doesn't protest Kyna touching it. It's calming, and he's so drained mentally and physically that he really wants to just kind of zone out for a little bit.
But her comment draws him back to the present, and with some mental effort he pulls away enough to sit up straighter and therefore not be talking into her shoulder.]
He wasn't acting like himself. I don't know what's going on.
[But he knows it's weird, and of course he remembers the problem Michael had after being brought back by Hope during the Null invasion; what if it's something like that happening again? Not that Lance is at all pleased with Michael at the moment either, but he isn't sure yet if it's fair to be angry with him or if there are mitigating circumstances.
He does know, though, that he has good reason not to trust him about the Name issue--or anything else--at least for right now.]
Cool. So what? He could have killed you because he can't keep that stupid ghost thing in check.
[Kyna pulls away and grabs for her backpack, digging out a makeshift first aid kit, cobbled together during the Null invasion. It's not much, but hey, at least she has bandages. She reaches out to tug his shirt up.]
[Okay, maybe he can't argue with that, at least not right now, so instead he just kind of watches what she's doing. Oh, a first aid kit, smart, but he doesn't make the connection right away between that and her tugging the end of his shirt up a little.
To that he reacts immediately, much faster than he has to anything else, because it's totally subconscious to shove the fabric back down and cross his arms across his abdomen to keep it there. But a second or two later, after he realizes what he did, he regrets it; it's fine if he's just holding it up. There's no chance in this situation that she'd be able to see the scars, so he's being ridiculous, but it's kind of too late to pretend that reaction was nothing.
Still, he makes an attempt anyway, trying to brush it off as protecting the injury as he slowly forces himself to pull his arms away and carefully pull up his shirt enough for her to see the cut.]
[He can tell she didn't buy it, but it's a conversation that can be had later and she's right; the stupid joke does calm him a little further, enough that he rests his head back against the wall and resumes staring into the distance instead of being on guard. And even though he's back to the staring thing, his voice is a little stronger and he's clearly still more present than he was before.]
I appreciate it, especially since I know it must be hard to resist, with how great I look right now.
[Being covered in blood and dust and the light of his phone surely making him look even paler than he already is. He tries not to fidget as she does the bandages, since it doesn't really hurt a lot, but it's still one of those things it's difficult not to react to.]
[And she's not even going to try to touch his leg after that reaction to lifting up his shirt. It's not bleeding anymore, anyway, so he can take care of it, she thinks.]
Do you want me to take you home? Or you could stay with me.
[And then she can figure out exactly how hard she's going to punch Michael.]
[He doesn't want her to do so just because she's worried; he's caused enough trouble for her already. But still, at the same time, the idea of having her there is reassuring and even the paranoia of the event doesn't dampen that.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
[text] /backdated to the fight with the Visitor
Kyna I'm sory to ask thisnof you but its am em,ergency and I need help.
[The text is sent with the set of GPS coordinates, and another followup message.]
Be careful, the monster Michael summonsa may be around, but I thinkits gone.
[He really, really hopes it's gone.]
:')
What? Where are you? What happened?
nothing terrible here at all
[Though said coordinates actually go to a partially collapsed building he's managed to get into and hide in, but whatever.]
fougth with the thing Michael summons
when you're swapping between characters and fuck up typing styles smh
[And by "right there" she means "two seconds later". Thank God for teleportation spells.]
#rpstruggles
When she shows up, he's sitting a corner with one knee drawn up toward his chest, his injured left leg stretched out in front of him and bleeding from various lacerations, but his attention is mostly on pressing both hands against another deep cut on his left side. Now that the adrenaline is wearing off he's really starting to feel the injuries and realize how bad they are, and the reality of the situation combined with the paranoia of the event is making it very difficult to keep calm.]
HONESTLY our lives are so hard
Shit. Can I see? Where else are you hurt?
no subject
It's... Bleeding a lot.
[He manages the answer in response to her first question, hesitant to take his hands off the wound in order to show her for that reason. There's silence another second or two before he remembers she asked another question.]
Just my leg.
[Which isn't great either, but the injury to his side is taking precedence.]
no subject
Can I see?
[She needs to make sure this is something she can actually heal.]
no subject
But he doesn't want to look at the injury, and so fixes his gaze off toward a side wall as he allows her to pull his hands away. The cut is deep and long, bleeding seriously but perhaps not as badly as might've been expected; he'd been able to keep fighting with the Visitor for a time, after all, and now the biggest problem is that it's all adding up rather than any one particular wound being immediately life-threatening.]
no subject
I'm gonna try to fix it, okay?
[She triggers the spell, watching as the wound starts to close. It certainly doesn't disappear, but the pain fades and the bleeding stops, and the lacerations shrink a bit. It's something.
God, she wishes she actually knew a decent healing spell.]
no subject
Finally, after several more seconds--more time than he thinks it's been, but less than would indicate he's completely zoned out--he pulls his gaze from the wall and back towards Kyna, then gathers up enough courage to look down at the injuries. They're still not great to look at, but the lack of bleeding is the most obvious and important thing right now, and although he's lost a lot of blood already he knows it's not so much he won't start recovering now that it's no longer worsening.
He glances up at Kyna again, a little haltingly, but manages to at least find his voice again.]
Thank you. I...
[Wasn't sure what he was going to do, or what he would've done if she weren't there and willing to help.]
I'm... I think I'm okay.
[In the sense of he's not going to drop dead or anything, although maybe not anything more than that. But he's becoming aware again that he must be worrying her, and so guilt is creeping in and he wants to reassure her at least a little.]
no subject
Are you sure?
no subject
It's belated again that he realizes she asked another question, but his answer at least has some personality this time as he responds dryly--]
Maybe not really.
no subject
I'm going to fucking kill Michael.
no subject
But her comment draws him back to the present, and with some mental effort he pulls away enough to sit up straighter and therefore not be talking into her shoulder.]
He wasn't acting like himself. I don't know what's going on.
[But he knows it's weird, and of course he remembers the problem Michael had after being brought back by Hope during the Null invasion; what if it's something like that happening again? Not that Lance is at all pleased with Michael at the moment either, but he isn't sure yet if it's fair to be angry with him or if there are mitigating circumstances.
He does know, though, that he has good reason not to trust him about the Name issue--or anything else--at least for right now.]
no subject
[Kyna pulls away and grabs for her backpack, digging out a makeshift first aid kit, cobbled together during the Null invasion. It's not much, but hey, at least she has bandages. She reaches out to tug his shirt up.]
Hold this up.
no subject
[Okay, maybe he can't argue with that, at least not right now, so instead he just kind of watches what she's doing. Oh, a first aid kit, smart, but he doesn't make the connection right away between that and her tugging the end of his shirt up a little.
To that he reacts immediately, much faster than he has to anything else, because it's totally subconscious to shove the fabric back down and cross his arms across his abdomen to keep it there. But a second or two later, after he realizes what he did, he regrets it; it's fine if he's just holding it up. There's no chance in this situation that she'd be able to see the scars, so he's being ridiculous, but it's kind of too late to pretend that reaction was nothing.
Still, he makes an attempt anyway, trying to brush it off as protecting the injury as he slowly forces himself to pull his arms away and carefully pull up his shirt enough for her to see the cut.]
Sorry, I... Okay.
no subject
Um... Are you sure you're okay?
no subject
[Nailed it. Perfectly reasonable explanation.]
Almost getting eaten's kind of... Thrown me off a little.
[It's half a joke, but also obviously very much the truth.]
no subject
Don't worry. I'm not gonna like, oogle you to see how ripped you are or something.
[Okay, a bad joke, but maybe it'll calm him down a little.]
no subject
I appreciate it, especially since I know it must be hard to resist, with how great I look right now.
[Being covered in blood and dust and the light of his phone surely making him look even paler than he already is. He tries not to fidget as she does the bandages, since it doesn't really hurt a lot, but it's still one of those things it's difficult not to react to.]
no subject
Yeah, totally. The blood's a good look.
[And she's not even going to try to touch his leg after that reaction to lifting up his shirt. It's not bleeding anymore, anyway, so he can take care of it, she thinks.]
Do you want me to take you home? Or you could stay with me.
[And then she can figure out exactly how hard she's going to punch Michael.]
no subject
Thanks.
[For the bandaging, and the offer, and everything else.]
I should... Yeah. If you can help me get home, that'd be great; I'll be okay, and Sandy's probably wondering where I went.
[And he's already inconvenienced Kyna enough.]
no subject
no subject
[He doesn't want her to do so just because she's worried; he's caused enough trouble for her already. But still, at the same time, the idea of having her there is reassuring and even the paranoia of the event doesn't dampen that.]
But if you want to, yeah, of course.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)