evocation | ⚡ hadriel

That...

[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.

[Kyna frowns at him, but takes a second to find a cloth to wipe the blood away with. She's not letting that go, though.]

Um... Are you sure you're okay?

Yeah, just kind of... On edge.

[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.]

[That sounds fake, but she's not going to push him. Instead, she defaults to a joke as she starts to bandage up his side.]

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.]

[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.]

[Kyna rolls her eyes.]

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.]

[He can definitely handle it on his own, though he'll make no promises to do so before taking a long nap.]

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.]

Okay. Um... Can I stay with you? You know, just in case.

You don't have to.

[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.

I want to.

[And maybe she's being a little paranoid herself, but she can't help it.]

I'm going to teleport us back, okay? It might feel kind of weird.

Okay.

[It's to both comments, and he thinks to pick up his phone before closing his eyes; who know what it'll actually feel like to teleport--and, normally, he's been really interested in finding out--but closing his eyes seems like the right thing to do right now.]

Ready.

[Kyna reaches out to take his free hand, not because she needs to, but because she thinks it might give him something to center himself with. The spell is easy enough to cast—she's been in his apartment so many times that she barely has to think about it, and while she's used to the effects, for Lance, it might feel like an unpleasant, stomach turning jerk.]

[Taking his hand does help, even if it also causes him to register how sticky and gross his hand feels with the drying blood on it, but that's an issue for later. He's far more focused on the feeling of the teleportation itself, and okay, yeah, weird is definitely a word for it; he might've been able to handle it a little better if he weren't already stressed out and suffering from blood loss, but as it is his stomach lurches and he has to press the back of his hand to his mouth in order to try to control a wave of nausea.

Nevermind, he's no longer curious about teleporting anymore.

After a few seconds, though, the sick feeling subsides, and he hesitantly opens his eyes to fix Kyna with a look that might be likened to that of a very sad puppy.]

I thought teleporting was supposed to be cool.

It is cool. You just have to get used to it.

[They're still on the floor, so she stands up, offering him her hand.]

I'll go punch Michael tomorrow.

Sure it is.

[He watches her stand up, eyebrows furrowing a little as a subconscious reaction to his head starting to hurt, and it's really tempting to just stay her on the floor. But he needs to get up, and take care of his leg, and wash off some of this blood and get a change of clothes.

So he lets her help him up, closing his eyes again as his head spins when he gets to his feet, but it clears off again enough that he thinks he'll be fine to accomplish his short list of things to do. But before that--]

Don't punch Michael. If not because of Michael, then just... Don't get into a fight with that thing.

[The thing Michael summons, not Michael himself. Now that Lance is kind of getting through the initial shock, finally, it's sinking in just how horrifying the creature and the fight actually were.

And, with the proper timing to break the mood a little, a certain fennec fox appears from a kitchen cabinet she's doubtlessly not supposed to be in, making a loud churring noise for attention as she stalks over.]

[Kyna scowls, but she's incapable of ignoring Sandy, so she scoops her up. Her annoyance doesn't have quite the same effect when she's snuggling a fox.]

He deserves it.

Maybe, but we all have enough problems already.

[And he really doesn't want her getting hurt. Sure, she's way better at magic than he is and is presumably used to fighting things like this, but the gun had been far more effective than magic and so he's not at all sure she'd have the upper hand.

And okay, good, she's distracting Sandy, and Lance tries taking a careful step toward the bathroom on his injured leg; it's a relief when it holds, even if he definitely doesn't want to walk on it more than he has to, because it means he should be able to handle dealing with everything just fine himself. So, before he does that--]

There's um, some actual food here this time, so help yourself to whatever. I'll be back in a sec.

[Or longer, but whatever.]

[Kyna can't help but shoot him a little bit of a look, but she lets him go. When he comes back, she's eating a sandwich, and there's one waiting for him, too. Sandy, of course, still isn't leaving her alone.]

[It takes him a little while to get everything taken care of as far as his injuries and washing off the blood, including a detour to his room to get a change of clothes. But eventually he does return, looking more like himself aside from the paleness and dust still in his hair, and he joins her at the table.

If asked before he saw it, he would've said he had exactly zero interest in a sandwich or any food in general, but it actually looks surprisingly good. Still, he doesn't move to eat it just yet, fixing Sandy and her begging with a faintly amused look before turning his gaze toward Kyna.]

Thanks. You didn't have to make me anything.

I know.

[Kyna studies him, still frowning. He looks a little better, at least.]

Are you sure you're okay?

[Ugh don't study him like that, even though he does the same thing to other people all the time. At the question he turns his attention toward the sandwich, poking idly at it.]

I will be, yeah.

[It's not a lie, but he also doesn't want to go into it too much right now. The whole thing is too recent and he hasn't processed it at all yet, but he knows he could be a lot worse, so he should be fine in a little time.]

I'm sorry to have worried you so much.

God, don't apologize for that.

[She rests her shoulder against his.]

Sorry I freak you out. You know, with the shirt thing.

[He gently leans against her shoulder for a moment in return, then shakes his head.]

That wasn't your fault.

[He offers a faint smile.]

We might both have to agree not to apologize about anything else.

Yeah, okay.

[That's probably a good idea.]

Do you want to, um... Talk about it?

[He doesn't immediately refuse, which is what he'd do with almost anyone else, but he does eventually give a long exhale as he shakes his head.]

Not right now, but thank you.

[Maybe in the future, but it's a conversation he would need to mentally prepare for and he definitely can't handle that right now after everything else that happened today.]

I'm just... Going to try to eat some of this sandwich and then sleep for like, ten hours. You don't have to stay, if you don't want to.

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