Are you trying to get out of a scolding by making up some ridiculous tale of woe? You should know that's not going to work, so why don't you tell me what really happened while I get my stuff together.
[He'd expound on his knowledge of bears and point out that he never lied about anything but he's feeling rather landed-on and half-eaten so that's really all he manages to write out.]
I think I have the tools to take out one of your bears.
[ Fictional or otherwise. As it happens, he takes enough precaution to bring a weapon with him, as is his way, and sets out in search of this supposed "Henry-shaped smear." Despite his dismissive tone, concern finds its way into his mannerisms, each sound being met with a quick glance or a stilted breath.
Unlikely though it may be, the possibility exists that there could be some sort of carnivorous beast that chose Henry as its prey. The details of Henry's story are what he doubts the most, shaking his head again at the thought of a bear landing on his injured friend.
That is, until he sees the 'smear' for himself and throws caution to the wind, quickly moving closer and kneeling near the bleeding body. ] Henry! Alright, just - just tell me what happened later, alright? I'm going to try sitting you upright. Slowly. I need to be able to see everything...
[It's good Otonashi decided to arrive when he did. Said smear is only half-conscious at this point, the other half having bled out already. One red-covered hand is propped on his opened book, and he doesn't look up when his saviour arrives.
Face down in a pool of blood, when Otonashi rolls him over, the jagged marks left over his torso and abdomen, the way the latter looks almost as if it had been chewed open- something large and predatory had certainly been there. Being hauled up- hopefully Otonashi doesn't mind the sight of chewed intestine poking from the wound, other organs glistening behind it. And from the limp way Henry is pulled around, it doesn't seem like he can move most of his lower body at all.
Breathing shallow, his eyes flicker open, blurrily focus up on familiar red hair.]
...glad you could make it, the wait was getting unbearable.
[If it sounds like he'd been waiting the whole time to say that... it's probably true.]
This isn't the time for - for puns! If you weren't bleeding out right now—
[ Otonashi can't be sure if the twitch in his eye is imagined or a genuine reflex. A quick tilt of his shoulder and sweep of his hand over the unclasped flap bag sends his fraying bandages and rudimentary medical supplies toppling over Henry's legs. Keeping his breathing regulated is a chore. Maintaining an air of calm feels like agony compounded with the pains of empathy he tries in vain to stave off.
As his hands brush Henry's torn clothing up and aside, trying to gently expose the worst of the wounds, a soft, almost electric blue flicker grabs his attention. A moment ago, several scrapes and cuts littered Henry's skin. Had he imagined them? Is his panic already so severe?
While tucking the chewed, damaged piece of Henry's intestine back into place to prepare for cleaning, he watches in awe as the same warm light synthesizes the organ back into place without so much as a wave of his hand or a moment to give it guidance. It spares him the pain of trying to reattach nerves without the knowledge to do so, fascinating him. ]
[If 'post-being eaten by bear' isn't the time for puns, when is?
Henry's too out of it to manage more than an amused-sounding wheeze at Otonashi's disapproval, slumping against wherever he's moved, eyes closing once he's satisfied that yes, someone's looking after him, everything would (probably) be fine. Also he couldn't keep them open anymore.
So he misses any flashes of blue, that injuries were suddenly less severe than they'd been moments before. He's still mostly dead, after all.
Nor is he able to respond to the question, having used up his current bout of consciousness on appropriate pun usage.]
half of his carvaka inbox is people either dying or crying about other people dying
[ When silence is his only reply, the redhead quickly shakes his head, swallowing back his dread. Henry's bleeding body before him is too close to the vine-ensnared, blossoming corpses from months earlier.
He's reminded how alone he is this time, unable to consult anyone for additional materials or an extra pair of hands. Even a warm figure to comfort eludes him, leaving him crushingly alone, unable to speak freely and reassure someone else that everything will be okay while knowing full-well it's he, too, that needs that reassurance.
Situating Henry's head comfortably on his emptied bag, he threads plastic line through his needle and rests one hand on the mage's hip, hoping to patch up the wound just enough around the edges to stop some of this bleeding. He needs another person to be doing this, he thinks, knowing that any untrained set of hands could be fussing with thread and needle while he could be applying pressure to the wound between cleaning it—
But every time he blinks, the wound appears smaller. Another pair of eyes might be able to see reality better than him, too. Color begins to return to Henry's skin just as Otonashi considers picking up his phone and calling for help. Watching each cut fade and each organ heal into place before skin mends itself over them leaves him gasping for breath, wavering between terror and relief.
In the end, all he can do is pull the bloody figure to his chest, swaying both of them back and forth. ]
Come on, you're okay, right..? You're okay... Please, please be okay...
[If Henry were more alert, more aware, he'd feel somewhat bad at having to leave Otonashi to stitch him up on his own, without reassurance or even company.
But that point of death recedes- too fast, unnaturally fast, even with Otonashi's medical support. The odds of survival drifted drastically back in Henry's favor; warmth returned to newly-healed skin, along with color (such as the mage had, anyway). Breathing steadied, and flickers of consciousness came with it, the feeling of arms around him, a familiar voice.
The smell was a little wrong, but maybe it was just all the blood...? Henry's first attempt to speak results in a cough, but when he tries again, it's soft- far softer than his earlier cavalier humor. Unguarded.]
...sorry, Seijuurou. I think I messed up again....
[He's still recovering; the mistake perhaps understandable.]
He breathes a sigh into that white hair, his fingers pressing the mage tightly to his chest. The eerie stillness within it betrays the rush of emotion, flickering from worry, to fear, to disbelief, only to settle on a momentary relief.
It's okay, he reminds himself again. A life didn't slip away in his arms once again. His best intentions didn't prove worthless.
[It takes a few moments longer for that to register than it should, eyes bleary (one of them, anyway), as Henry tries to turn his head somewhere that he can actually see some identifying piece of him.
He gives up about the same time that he recalls his most recent memories- that was right, he had managed to message Otonashi, he could only just about remember him showing up. Someone showing up, anyway, that point was fuzzy on the details.
But gratitude rushes through him strongly enough to nearly knock him out again, and he swallows a bit heavily, face burrowed in Otonashi's chest. No distant thud of a heart, that was right. Moving a hand, he lightly squeezes one of Otonashi's arms.]
--I think so. Geez, you're a quick mender, Yuzuru.
[His tone is back to normal- weaker, but normal. But apart from lingering disorientation, Henry felt... surprisingly okay, considering he'd just been partially disemboweled and crushed by a falling bear.]
I dunno why you don't think you're a good doctor....
[ For all their lack of convention, he feels it an important enough distinction to make. A medical doctor would have had the experience and level-headedness to know where to begin on a patient without wasting precious seconds hesitating.
A medical professional might not have assumed a plea for help was a joke.
Even so, he can forgive a break in his imagined, idealized protocol when he has a success to show for himself rather than another corpse to explain, or yet another voice of regret haunting him in the night. Hesitating a moment longer, he breathes his relief slowly through Henry's hair, then finally tears himself away enough to look over the dark mage for lasting damage.
With panicked haze gone, he still sees no sign that wounds had ever existed at all. ]
And I really didn't do anything. How did I - how did you..? Am I dreaming?
[Otonashi's medical knowledge was better than real doctors in his own time period, so Henry's not sure what impossible standard he's going for. It was all impressive enough to him!
But as he's looked over, Henry joins in the searching, fingers prodding over his stomach with a thoughtful hum. Apart from the blood, the torn clothing, the rest was... fine. Like he hadn't ever been opened up to begin with.]
It definitely wasn't me... you sure you didn't imagine it closed? Have any other sort of healing magic?
No, I haven't had healing magic in a long time... You remember.
[ He ends with an exasperated edge to his voice, recalling the surprise cry for instant healing help on the old planet. Giving the mage one last look-over still nets him absolutely no insight and no trace that Henry had ever suffered any sort of recent injury. ]
Even my healing isn't instant. [ He shoots another look to Henry. ] You would remember that too.
[ Mister "better harvest these organs quickly" Henry. ]
Hey, I don't really have a better explanation. Whatever it was, you did a good job of it.
[Henry just settles back on Otonashi's chest as if the mystery wasn't something that concerned him. And to be honest, he wasn't that curious about where it had come from either- it had worked, hadn't it? That was good enough for him.
This sudden ability would surely have no lasting drawbacks.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
trainwrecking) wrote2015-06-07 09:36 pm
text;
A
bear
fell on you.
Henry...
Is this a joke?
Are you trying to get out of a scolding by making up some ridiculous tale of woe?
You should know that's not going to work, so why don't you tell me what really happened while I get my stuff together.
no subject
[He'd expound on his knowledge of bears and point out that he never lied about anything but he's feeling rather landed-on and half-eaten so that's really all he manages to write out.]
no subject
Is the "bear" still there?
[ So skeptical... ]
no subject
I wouldn't have written you if it was still here...
I don't want you to get eaten too
[What kind of guy do you think he is.]
no subject
[ Fictional or otherwise. As it happens, he takes enough precaution to bring a weapon with him, as is his way, and sets out in search of this supposed "Henry-shaped smear." Despite his dismissive tone, concern finds its way into his mannerisms, each sound being met with a quick glance or a stilted breath.
Unlikely though it may be, the possibility exists that there could be some sort of carnivorous beast that chose Henry as its prey. The details of Henry's story are what he doubts the most, shaking his head again at the thought of a bear landing on his injured friend.
That is, until he sees the 'smear' for himself and throws caution to the wind, quickly moving closer and kneeling near the bleeding body. ] Henry! Alright, just - just tell me what happened later, alright? I'm going to try sitting you upright. Slowly. I need to be able to see everything...
[ Or so he imagines. ]
no subject
Face down in a pool of blood, when Otonashi rolls him over, the jagged marks left over his torso and abdomen, the way the latter looks almost as if it had been chewed open- something large and predatory had certainly been there. Being hauled up- hopefully Otonashi doesn't mind the sight of chewed intestine poking from the wound, other organs glistening behind it. And from the limp way Henry is pulled around, it doesn't seem like he can move most of his lower body at all.
Breathing shallow, his eyes flicker open, blurrily focus up on familiar red hair.]
...glad you could make it, the wait was getting unbearable.
[If it sounds like he'd been waiting the whole time to say that... it's probably true.]
no subject
[ Otonashi can't be sure if the twitch in his eye is imagined or a genuine reflex. A quick tilt of his shoulder and sweep of his hand over the unclasped flap bag sends his fraying bandages and rudimentary medical supplies toppling over Henry's legs. Keeping his breathing regulated is a chore. Maintaining an air of calm feels like agony compounded with the pains of empathy he tries in vain to stave off.
As his hands brush Henry's torn clothing up and aside, trying to gently expose the worst of the wounds, a soft, almost electric blue flicker grabs his attention. A moment ago, several scrapes and cuts littered Henry's skin. Had he imagined them? Is his panic already so severe?
While tucking the chewed, damaged piece of Henry's intestine back into place to prepare for cleaning, he watches in awe as the same warm light synthesizes the organ back into place without so much as a wave of his hand or a moment to give it guidance. It spares him the pain of trying to reattach nerves without the knowledge to do so, fascinating him. ]
... Did you do that?
no subject
Henry's too out of it to manage more than an amused-sounding wheeze at Otonashi's disapproval, slumping against wherever he's moved, eyes closing once he's satisfied that yes, someone's looking after him, everything would (probably) be fine. Also he couldn't keep them open anymore.
So he misses any flashes of blue, that injuries were suddenly less severe than they'd been moments before. He's still mostly dead, after all.
Nor is he able to respond to the question, having used up his current bout of consciousness on appropriate pun usage.]
half of his carvaka inbox is people either dying or crying about other people dying
He's reminded how alone he is this time, unable to consult anyone for additional materials or an extra pair of hands. Even a warm figure to comfort eludes him, leaving him crushingly alone, unable to speak freely and reassure someone else that everything will be okay while knowing full-well it's he, too, that needs that reassurance.
Situating Henry's head comfortably on his emptied bag, he threads plastic line through his needle and rests one hand on the mage's hip, hoping to patch up the wound just enough around the edges to stop some of this bleeding. He needs another person to be doing this, he thinks, knowing that any untrained set of hands could be fussing with thread and needle while he could be applying pressure to the wound between cleaning it—
But every time he blinks, the wound appears smaller. Another pair of eyes might be able to see reality better than him, too. Color begins to return to Henry's skin just as Otonashi considers picking up his phone and calling for help. Watching each cut fade and each organ heal into place before skin mends itself over them leaves him gasping for breath, wavering between terror and relief.
In the end, all he can do is pull the bloody figure to his chest, swaying both of them back and forth. ]
Come on, you're okay, right..? You're okay... Please, please be okay...
no subject
But that point of death recedes- too fast, unnaturally fast, even with Otonashi's medical support. The odds of survival drifted drastically back in Henry's favor; warmth returned to newly-healed skin, along with color (such as the mage had, anyway). Breathing steadied, and flickers of consciousness came with it, the feeling of arms around him, a familiar voice.
The smell was a little wrong, but maybe it was just all the blood...? Henry's first attempt to speak results in a cough, but when he tries again, it's soft- far softer than his earlier cavalier humor. Unguarded.]
...sorry, Seijuurou. I think I messed up again....
[He's still recovering; the mistake perhaps understandable.]
no subject
[ It's okay.
He breathes a sigh into that white hair, his fingers pressing the mage tightly to his chest. The eerie stillness within it betrays the rush of emotion, flickering from worry, to fear, to disbelief, only to settle on a momentary relief.
It's okay, he reminds himself again. A life didn't slip away in his arms once again. His best intentions didn't prove worthless.
It's okay. ]
It doesn't matter. Are... are you okay?
no subject
He gives up about the same time that he recalls his most recent memories- that was right, he had managed to message Otonashi, he could only just about remember him showing up. Someone showing up, anyway, that point was fuzzy on the details.
But gratitude rushes through him strongly enough to nearly knock him out again, and he swallows a bit heavily, face burrowed in Otonashi's chest. No distant thud of a heart, that was right. Moving a hand, he lightly squeezes one of Otonashi's arms.]
--I think so. Geez, you're a quick mender, Yuzuru.
[His tone is back to normal- weaker, but normal. But apart from lingering disorientation, Henry felt... surprisingly okay, considering he'd just been partially disemboweled and crushed by a falling bear.]
I dunno why you don't think you're a good doctor....
no subject
[ For all their lack of convention, he feels it an important enough distinction to make. A medical doctor would have had the experience and level-headedness to know where to begin on a patient without wasting precious seconds hesitating.
A medical professional might not have assumed a plea for help was a joke.
Even so, he can forgive a break in his imagined, idealized protocol when he has a success to show for himself rather than another corpse to explain, or yet another voice of regret haunting him in the night. Hesitating a moment longer, he breathes his relief slowly through Henry's hair, then finally tears himself away enough to look over the dark mage for lasting damage.
With panicked haze gone, he still sees no sign that wounds had ever existed at all. ]
And I really didn't do anything. How did I - how did you..? Am I dreaming?
no subject
But as he's looked over, Henry joins in the searching, fingers prodding over his stomach with a thoughtful hum. Apart from the blood, the torn clothing, the rest was... fine. Like he hadn't ever been opened up to begin with.]
It definitely wasn't me... you sure you didn't imagine it closed? Have any other sort of healing magic?
no subject
[ He ends with an exasperated edge to his voice, recalling the surprise cry for instant healing help on the old planet. Giving the mage one last look-over still nets him absolutely no insight and no trace that Henry had ever suffered any sort of recent injury. ]
Even my healing isn't instant. [ He shoots another look to Henry. ] You would remember that too.
[ Mister "better harvest these organs quickly" Henry. ]
no subject
[Henry just settles back on Otonashi's chest as if the mystery wasn't something that concerned him. And to be honest, he wasn't that curious about where it had come from either- it had worked, hadn't it? That was good enough for him.
This sudden ability would surely have no lasting drawbacks.]