exsilium | 1st ☓ video

Entry tags:

1st ☓ video

[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?

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

D --> What is a sodding doctor
D --> Is sodding a type of medical practice, or an adjective for emphasis

[Also texting would not capture the full magnitude of his irritation at this line of questioning.]

You're serious? It's an adjective for emphasis, mate. [The emphasis on this one is clearly not meant to be one of kinship.] A doctor, I need a doctor, sodding optional.

D --> I am serious and also not your mate
D --> Thirdly, I am not a doctor

[If throwing the netbook at the nearest wall wouldn't lead to him having to just crawl over to retrieve it, Flynn would be doing just that. Instead, he settles for shaking it in frustration, clearly wishing he could shake the person on the other end of the texts in its place.]

Fourthly, you aren't much good to me then, are you? And what's the deal with the bizarre protocol? [He really has better things to do than discuss formatting - like bleeding out - but hey, it's not like he's going anywhere.]

D --> What bizarre protocol

[He definitely ain't a doctor, but he stops when he sees Flynn bleeding everywhere, regardless. He pauses, looking over the extent of the injuries, his expression appraising. He flexes and then relaxes his fingers, as though agitated. His voice is a growl.]

I've seen worse.

D --> this bizarer protocl

[It's a pale imitation, but typing while bleeding profusely and smudging it all over the screen is hard, thank you.]

[Flynn would like to pretend this is the first time he's seen what looks to be a reanimated corpse, but sadly it isn't. His eyebrows do rise precariously high on his forehead as he takes in Koltira's appearance - that hair's pretty bold, guy - but otherwise he doesn't comment.]

Yeah? Where's that - in the mirror?

[Okay, so he comments a bit.]

[DO YOU WANT TO DIE, FLYNN? BECAUSE THAT CAN BE FUCKING ARRANGED. He kneels down in front of Flynn so that they are eye-level, and stares at him with his horrible, unearthly blue eyes. In truth, it's difficult for him to do this--he's been in this town for almost a month already, and despite the promise of a war, they haven't been sent on any missions. The desire to hurt something is reaching unbearable heights, and you're already half-dead, buddy.]

You've got quite a mouth, haven't you? Am I to assume that means you would prefer to continue bleeding to death against this wall?

[Flynn can't help grimacing when the elf gets in his space, mostly because hello, walking dead up close and personal. Well preserved or not, he's still a dead guy. After the instinctive recoil, though, he meets Koltira's eyes, grimace shifting to a sneer.]

I didn't hear you offering an alternative. What, you hiding a first aid kit behind those ears of yours?

What the hell? They didn't even bother to patch you up after they yanked you here? That's messed up.

[Oh Harry, when it comes to luck, you always seem to draw the absolute shortest stick possible. And Chloe can't forget the last time she saw you looking like this, so she can guess exactly when you were yanked out of time and space, which...honestly isn't that great for her either.

So instead of kicking the guy while he's down, or setting an already crumbling bridge on fire with napalm, she opts for text. Nice, simple, unidentifiable text.]

I hope whoever gave you those grisly gifts didn't come crawling into this world with you.

The proof is in the pudding.

To be fair, the hostess didn't seem to be playing with a full deck. Did make the situation a bit awkward. [As if magically appearing in a strange world engaged in a time war wasn't awkward all on its own.]

[you miserable, rat-faced bastard. The long ears dip at their tips, flattening slightly against his head. He's pretty sure that you have more sass than blood in you right now.]

As a matter of fact, I do carry medicinal bandages on my person. [he produces a small roll of these from some pocket in his armor.] It's clear that you need more than these, however.

Perhaps if you asked nicely.

[he can't keep this up. There's so much blood, and it's all he's got not to reach out and finish the job--not simply because Flynn is a dick, but because Koltira's mind is throbbing, demanding that he put this stranger through even more pain than he's already got.]

[He doesn't seem remotely phased by the anonymous part - not like he's expecting any familiar faces, anyway. Anonymous text messages are hardly the weirdest thing to happen to him today.]

Yeah, unlikely. I left with a bit of a bang. [There's the slightest contradictory hints of pride and sadness in there, but the overwhelming tone is sarcasm. Laughing to keep from crying, probably - if Lazarevic followed him here he'd rather shoot himself and be done with it.]

Why so shy? Don't suppose you've got a degree in bullet holes. Patching them up, that is.

[ hey, stiles just met you, and this is crazy, but you look like a dude from a game he's played, so confirm that maybe??? ]

Dude, gross.

[ seriously, get that looked at. he's getting sympathy pains. ]

[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.]

Must be a relief for you, then. You know, despite the bleeding.

[Considering denial isn't exactly the best friend that it used to be when it comes to her life, the sadness in his voice isn't lost on her.]

Let's just say I prefer my privacy and leave it at that. As for the degree, no such luck. Always been better at making them rather than fixing them up.

[ Insert McCall me maybe joke here??? ]

Yeah, gross. Kind of the point of the S.O.S. Commentary from the peanut gallery, on the other hand, not so much the point.

[ Flynn looks mildly disgusted by the fact that he's being heckled by a child while bleeding to death - he wasn't expecting that much from his last moments, but honestly. ]

[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.

[ AWOOOOO ]

Well, I can't exactly help you. This is the next best thing. Talking keeps you alert, you know—so you're not so likely to die a horrible lonely death.

[ it's kind of sad that he's seen so much shit lately that people bleeding out on-camera doesn't affect him as much as it should—or can—if he were actually there. he feels pretty terrible about this whole stupid situation as it is, and he's sorry your life sucks, dude, but shit happens. often. unfortunately.

and he's curious.

he looks concerned, at least, behind narrowed eyes and a slightly nauseous twist to his mouth. ]

So, what is it? Knife wound? Bullet?

[ 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.

Sounds like we went to the same school. [ More than he knows - where's that hard knock song when you need it. ]

Thanks anyway for the concern - don't suppose you'd mind volunteering some information while you're feeling generous. Been here long? [ If he can't get his wounds taken care of, there's no harm and keeping coherent with a friendly chat in the meantime. ]

[Well. Isn't that a cheerful sight.]

It would be of great help to know where over here is at, young man. Your surroundings, can you describe them please?

Never expected a man in your condition to be so talkative. [Flynn do you even know how to stop chatting ever?]

New arrival, just like yourself. Can't imagine you had the most pleasant of tours given the circumstances.

Has anyone even offered to lend you a hand?

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 1 of 4

1st ☓ video

Text;

video because he is too busy putting pressure on wounds for texting

Text till stated otherwise.

video - same

no subject

action

text

Re: action

Re: action

no subject

no subject

Text

no subject

no subject

video

VIDEO | HEEEEERE WE GO

no subject

Text

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

video

[video]

Text