1st ☓ video

[flynninomite]

[The video clicks on to a claustrophobic view of what appears to be dark fabric, then abruptly shifts, tipping upwards to reveal a scowling man looking like he's seen (much) better days. Judging from the angle, the netbook is being propped up on his knee with one hand while he sits reclined against a wall; the other hand is pressed firmly to his stomach. It quickly becomes clear that the fabric isn't dark - it's just covered in blood, both beneath his hand and again at his left shoulder. His face is similarly accented by a few cuts and bruises, not to mention a fair amount of dirt.]

Testing, testing- [A strong English accent, interrupted by a cough.] I don't know what the hell this is about, but I'm guessing it's not heaven. Either way, I'd like to stick around long enough to find out. The odd woman said I could get assistance on this thing - so here I am, calling for assistance.

Can I get a sodding doctor over here?

Comments

[flynninomite]

[Flynn is reluctant to back down - it's not really his first instinct - but he's not always a complete idiot. He's in a strange world, talking to a dead elf, and rapidly bleeding out all over the ground. He's not particularly bothered about pride at the moment, and even the small blessing of some proper bandages is overwhelming his urge to start a fight.]

Right, fine, pretty please with a cherry on top. [This is him not being sassy, honestly.]

[deadelfwalking]

[he tears several strips off of the bandage roll and then makes an 'up' motion with his left hand. He struggles to stay focused on this task, on the goal of helping this man, rather than on the desire to gut him right there on the floor.]

Let's have a look at the wound, then.

[flynninomite]

[ Yeah, sure, lifting his shirt up for the dead elf who clearly wants to cause him infinite pain probably isn't the most reasonable idea he's ever had, but what's the worst that could happen? Horrible, painful death? Gosh, we can't have that. He'd much rather have the slow painful death, thank you. ]

[Needless to say, he pushes his battered leather jacket aside slightly to lift up his shirt - anyone's guess what color it used to be, now it's just an artful blend of dirt and blood. The stab wound isn't a clean one, and was obviously not a quick job.]

Have at it, Doc Martin.

[deadelfwalking]

[Worry not; he's keeping that drive in check, albeit just barely. He manages to apply the bandages without punching another hole in Flynn's stomach, and their effect is immediate. An item from home, they're made of a specialized fabric and coated in a salve that quickly soothes Flynn's pain. This is all Koltira can do, and he knows that if he hangs around here much longer, he won't be able to resist the urge to undo it.]

All right. That should keep you for the moment. Hang on.

[he takes out his netbook thing, which he navigates with unusual skill, given that he looks like something out of a D&D manual. He taps the keyboard for a few seconds, putting in a call to someone he knows can be of more help. ASHRAF, YOU GOT MAIL. Or a video message, whatever.]

[healplz]

[ OH SPEAK OF THE DEVIL. or of the priest, anyway. Ashraf arrives within five minutes of being called, movements twice as fast to speak for the spell of increased agility he'd used on himself, and just slightly out of breath. (Priests aren't good with lots of running, okay.)

As soon as Flynn is in sight and Ashraf is near enough, he waves a hand. Cooling green light washes over Flynn with his spell of healing, and Ashraf watches with trained patience to see if a second heal is required. ]

I apologize for my tardiness. [ He comes to a stop, finally, and very pointedly doesn't look at the creepy dead guy. ] How do you feel now?

[flynninomite]

[ Somewhere in the sensible part of his brain, Flynn's aware that he should be a bit more disconcerted by the undead elf and the new arrival - a man in a dress doing magic tricks - but there comes a point where it's just not worth the energy of being surprised anymore.

Besides, he did just come from a quest to find the Cintamani Stone and immortality. Mystical healing lights isn't the weirdest thing he's ever seen. ]

Uh - no worries, mate, I wasn't in any hurry. The company could've been better, though. [ He is, similarly, otherwise ignoring poor Koltira. He's hesitant to move, but when he's sure the pain is actually receding, he pushes upwards to sit a bit straighter, testing his shoulder. ] That's a nice trick you've got there.

[deadelfwalking]

[Hey, you know what? NUTS TO THE BOTH OF YOU. Koltira winces while Ashraf does his priestly business, though he's turned away from the action. Man, he has got to get out of here, anyway. He lifts his hand and starts walking. Later, douchebags, AND YOU'RE FUCKING WELCOME, FLYNN.]

[healplz]

[ Only when Koltira turns to go does Ashraf finally glance over at him, definitely YEAH, GOOD RIDDANCE sort of look. Stupid dead guys, making things awkward.

He approaches Flynn, extending a hand down to help him up. ]

I'm a priest, it is the least I can do to help.

[flynninomite]

[ Flynn glances at Koltira as he sulks off, but he doesn't do anything to stop him. Help or not, that guy is clearly on the verge of mass murder - the further away, the better.

Accepting the offered hand, Flynn pulls himself up and goes about inspecting his thoroughly ruined t-shirt, clearly a bit upset about the loss. ]

A priest, is it? Guess that explains the clothes. [ Dress, he means dress. But hey, he doesn't say it - see, he does have manners. ]

[healplz]

[ He only nods, because, hey, priests do all dress in robes like this where he comes from. Perfectly logical comment. He waves a hand, casting a blessing over Flynn. It should make him feel stronger and rejuvenated, even more so than the heal. ]

I am Ashraf Salib, should you need to call for me again. May I ask your name?

[flynninomite]

[ So this wizard mojo is maybe a little impressive. Flynn is clearly intrigued, but does a pretty good job remaining nonchalant. ]

Flynn, Harry Flynn. You do this often? [ A vague gesture to the here and now, clearly meaning 'appear in the nick of time to rescue complete strangers'. ]