[PM] [8th/9th/7th] Week ---: Masks and Rubble

[FogOverLondon]

Amid the distinct "thud" of Hikaru hitting the ground, his rapidly fading Thanoresonance, and the echoing of footsteps all around him, Absalom initially tensed.

But after a few moments he relaxed, noting that his saviour's voice happened to be particularly reassuring. Her confidence inspired a wave of relief that washed over him, releasing the tension of battle.

His mind was still swirling though, and exhaustion quickly creeping into his very bones. The Orpheus Consultant had to catch himself so that the rubber quality his legs had suddenly taken on didn't give out from under him. Obviously and substantially weakened, the Brit planted his left foot slightly askew behind him and nodded to the woman.

"Okay," he answered, fighting through physical and mental strain, "I can't continue to fight these... things, handicapped as I am. Please help me. Cure me."

And although he held a dark tone, cynical from the attack and now this fight, Absalom held out his hand; near-desperation driving his complicity.

[164/1,745]

 

[lilmangoseed]

"Perfect. Come with me, Mr. Barclay." She took his hand in hers and grasped it softly. But as he stepped forward, she noted that the back of his shift was soaked with red. "You're hurt. You must have hit something sharp as you fell. It's good that you can still walk. Let me take care of that for you."

Leaning down, she tore her right pant leg at the height of her thigh and ripped it off. Splitting it down its length, she created a makeshift bandage. Pulling it under his arms, she positioned the fabric as a horizontal band across his ribs and tied it in front. "It's not much, but it should slow down the bleeding."

Then taking Absalom's hand again, she led him away from the scene of havoc. Meanwhile, her partner lugged the netted Wraith over his shoulder and followed the woman through a path of interweaving shadows and back to their hopeful sanctuary.

final [158/1033]
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