waywardbattlemage rp 1 – vvardenfellcat

Not a Free Healer- Alabyn/Jhasi

forgottenchampions:

The mer stared the khajiit deadpan in the face as the profanities were hurled at him. That was fine- two could play that game. <”Hold still and th-this wouldn’t be a p-p-problem.”> He responded rather curtly in surprisingly fluent Dunmeris. He exhaled, blonde strands of hair flew out of his face, before going back to the artery. He was nearly finished patching up the tissue before the khajiit jerked forward, undoing most of his work.

<“D-dammit, hold st-still y-y-you’re reopeni–”> Alabyn gritted his teeth, having enough difficulty patching up the small but potentially lethal cut in his shoulder. He stretched his lips thin and his eyes rolled as the khajiit spat out another set of obscenities. Seeing he was going to get nowhere with his… ‘patient,’ the mer clutched his shoulder to the chair– enough was enough. His cold blue eyes shot daggers at the khajiit.

<“Alright you.”> The mer raised his voice. <”For th-the record you have an-an open arter-uh-… artery. You c-c-can either bleed out or y-uh-.. you can hold still and– an-an-and let me do my godsd-damned job.”>

J’hasi’s face twisted into a snarl, a bit of panic rising when he was pinned in place, but flicking his ears back at the mer’s reprimand. He was going to throw up, he just knew it, everything was just… And he was getting cold… Where was…? The Khajiit’s teeth chattered in pain and shock before he hissed quietly.

“<Wh-who th’fuck are you?>” he snapped, shuddering as another wave of nausea washed over him, gagging a little but keeping the contents of his stomach down for now. He was wavering between pain and awareness versus weakness and unconsciousness and he wasn’t appreciating it with a stranger holding him down with their fingers buried two knuckles deep into his shoulder. J’hasi squeezed his eyes shut, teeth bared in a silent hiss. He wasn’t too keen on dying just yet, he still had a cure to find, but by the Hist this fetcher was not gentle in the least.

Not a Free Healer- Alabyn/Jhasi

forgottenchampions:

Alabyn huffed from his nostrils, brows furrowed. These were clean…?

“He’s not uh-… He’s not going to be a happy k-khajiit, but, but- b-… but he’ll pull through.”

He exhaled, the strong copper smell of that much blood was always a tad offensive to his nostrils. “N’chow…” He grumbled, pressing one of the rags firmly onto the puncture until he was ready to delve in for healing. “Alright. Going in on th-three… two…”

The mer shoved two fingers into the puncture wound, feeling for the pressure of flowing blood. <“Easy… Easy…”> The mer uttered in Dunmeris as he anticipated the Khajiit to start jerking around– for the past 200 or so years, it was nothing new for him to deal with patients like that, so it was generally the first thing to anticipate from them.

Always expect the worse and you’ll never be disappointed, yeah?

The Khajiit yowled at the sudden spike in pain, trying to squirm away from it, but unable to make much progress in his weakened state. His tongue, however, wasn’t nearly as hindered, yelping out a few choice curse words before he tried to grab for the offending arm to pull it away. J’hasi whimpered, ears flicking back as his teeth grit tight at the pain, eyes barely opening to see someone, blurry and way closer than expected. He bared his fangs in a hiss at the attempt at reassurance.

“<Hurts!>” he snapped, trying to pull at the mer’s arm again, but not having any more success than the first attempt. The most he managed to do was to make himself pass out from pain again for a moment, his eyes rolling up into the back of his head before the next stabbing sensation brought him back to the surface, hissing out something exceptionally vulgar that the bystander Nords thankfully couldn’t understand.

Dagur looked uncertain, unsure if he should help or…maybe just leave the healer to his work.

Not a Free Healer- Alabyn/Jhasi

forgottenchampions:

He wasn’t entirely sure when the Nords decided to give a skeevers arse about anyone except their own, but the barkeep was right. From the size of that injury the khajiit would’ve probably been alright had he had it looked at immediately, but judging how small the ice shard was compared to the hole in his shoulder and how bloodied his robes were, he’d been fucking around for at least half an hour or so.
The mer exhaled with deep agitation- couldn’t ever get a break the second people figured out he was a mage. In this damned province, it was a 50/50 between getting heckled for being one of those ‘damned mages,’ or people being under the delusion that one would work for them for no charge.
“I’ll see wh- uh– I’ll see what I can d-do. For a price.” Alabyn cracked his knuckles. He propped the unconscious khajiit onto one of the chairs, pressing around the impact; didn’t seem to have severed any arteries slowly prying away at the shard when it wasn’t slipping out of his hands.

“Ah–” The mer startled when blood began to gush the moment he had loosened the shard. Okay, there was definitely artery damage here. He grimaced, any lacerations to the axillary artery were generally difficult to heal. The shard must’ve been lodged in enough where it could keep a decent amount of pressure on the artery, generally something hard to do for the axillary. “Sorry k-khajiit, you’re not g- you’re not going to like me here in uh– in a minute.” He was going to have to dig into his shoulder and directly heal it from there. He looked at the barkeep, mouth stretched, “If you’ve g-got any fresh cloth around, I’m going t- I’m going to need it here in a m-moment.”

Dagur nodded, looking a little concerned at all the blood that was spreading through the Khajiit’s robes, idly wondering how long it would take to drip on the floor as he turned to grab some unused rags from the bar.

J’hasi barely came out of that haze of pain and darkness he was stuck in before he heard someone speaking Cyrodilic, eyes barely cracking open to see more red, blood gushing from his shoulder, burning warm now, the ice…the ice was gone? Where…? He tried to look up, but his head felt so wobbly and light, like he was going to float away… All his nose could tell him was that there was blood everywhere, and there was fire. He could hear it crackling over his ragged panting, shallow and light.

“<Where…?>” he mumbled, his Dunmeris slurred, but it was the best he could manage right now.

“Here, this is what we have that’s clean.” The Nord handed over a small pile of worn-out bar rags, clean and dry at least, looking down at the Khajiit, whose head slumped forward, unconscious again.

“Is…is he going t’be all right?”

Not a Free Healer- Alabyn/Jhasi

forgottenchampions:

… I’m sorry, could you describe the smell?“
“Like some horrible monster was turned inside out, and then exploded. What did you do?”
“It was a minor miscalculation. I’ve already corrected it for future experiments.”
“This– This is why people have a problem with your college, Nelacar.”

Alabyn peeked from behind his copy of “Response to Bero’s Speech” to take a look at the old Altmer wizard. Now that this Nelacar has a face and a name, he had better hope he doesn’t find out which room he resides in.

The Battlemage crumpled his nose; that aroma smelled so good he was convinced he hadn’t a single nose hair left un-singed in the wee hours of the morning. He technically was not to join the college until tomorrow, but with all this bullshit going about, he was considering just packing and heading straight over.

He sighed when the door to the inn was opened, flurries of snow blew into the warmth of the small building.
‘Ah yes, lets um, lets let in all the c-cold air why don’t we? I was st- starting to think it was get- getting a little hot in here.’

His eyes didn’t leave Bero’s Speech until he was startled by a loud thud at his feet. The mer glanced down, observing a black khajiit crumpled on the floor with a icebolt lodged into one of his shoulders. College Robes, but then again its not like one would be seeing Khajiit out in this area for the breathtaking scenes.

He inhaled deeply from his nose, its as if the Archmage knew he was coming and decided to send some of the students over right away. He shook his head, returning back to his book.

“You should- ah– you should probably consider g-getting that removed. Not uh- Not g-good for your health.”

J’hasi’s ear twitched at the sound of someone talking, but…it was getting hard to focus… His head was all jumbled up and slow to process what was said, and trying to push himself back up was met with only a wobbly attempt before he slid back down to the stone with a hiss of pain. The Khajiit squeezed his eyes shut, trying to remember words as he heard someone approach, catching the scent and that was the barkeep, wasn’t it? Alcedonia? No, wait…

“By the gods… Nelacar, can you-?”

“I’m afraid my talents lie elsewhere. Perhaps someone at the College could help.” And with that, the Altmer slipped back into his room, leaving the Nord to sigh with annoyance and drag the Khajiit to his feet. J’hasi groaned, disliking how the movement was making the entire room spin, as well as making his stomach lurch ominously. The Nord looked at the other mer in the room.

“Please, sir. D’you know any healing arts?” J’hasi shivered, he was fucking freezing and he was done with this touching thing, hissing out a curse in Jel before trying to pull away from the barkeep with little success.

“<M…m’fine… Fine…>” he mumbled, trying to get away from the firm grip on his arms. By the Hist, was all that red from him? The Khajiit took a step away from the barkeep, only to black out again and fall flat onto the floor once more, writhing silently at the stab of pain of his shoulder being aggravated by the remnants of the ice from that fucking…draugr…

Dagur tried to gather up the Khajiit again, this time with more success due to his apparent unconsciousness.

“Please, sir. This…this looks bad, and I don’t think I could get him across to the College in time, I don’t know where their healers are, if any. I’m sure he’d pay you once he wakes up, he’s paid his tab in full before.”