estivates (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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bakerstreet2014-11-30 02:34 pm
estivates) wrote in bakerstreet2014-11-30 02:34 pm
minor injury meme.
You or your meme partner has been hurt, but don't worry! This time around it's not that bad. You can still limp your way out of this mess.
INJURIES.
1. Sprain/strain. How did you screw up walking?
2. Broken bones. Simple fractures still hurt.
3. Cuts. Hopefully one of you has a sewing kit.
4. Burns. Location, location, location. Let's pray this one isn't on your ass.
5. Concussion. No, they're most likely not holding up fifteen fingers.
6. Other. I'm not a doctor.
HOW'D IT HAPPEN.
1. Stupidity. You did this to yourself.
2. Accident. Is an unintentional attack still an attack?
3. Attack. Don't lie, you deserved it.
4. Other. It's probably still your own fault.
WHERE'D IT HAPPEN.
1. Home. Did you remember to invest in a first aid kit?
2. School/Work. This should be excellent for getting you out of doing stuff!
3. Outdoors. Predators like the smell of blood. Clean up asap.
4. In the water. Hopefully there aren't any sharks!
5. Other. Like a hospital. That'd be handy.
no subject
His head was swimming. He'd planned to call someone for help, but hadn't quite gotten that far when someone crouched down in front of him. When had he fallen? Had he fallen? It was hard to know. Not that it really mattered. At least he was upright, if leaning back against something.
Soubi blinked at him, working to focus and figure out words. Words words words. And why was a stranger so worried about someone they'd found on the side of the road, injured or not? What had been said didn't really matter, but struck him as somewhat funny.
Funny enough that a faint smile touched his lips and he tilted his head a little.
"Too late."
no subject
"But it's no use waiting for the rest of them, is it? Besides, you shouldn't even have been alone in the first place, isn't that right? Someone is going to be angry with you, I'm sure."
He seemed to come to a quick decision and grabbed his bag with one hand and the man's arm with the other.
"Up you go. Let's get you off the street."
no subject
The faint smile faded, leaving just weariness. There was no reason to hide from this man, strange as it was. He wouldn't tell Ritsuka, who was the only one who mattered. Speaking of, Soubi grimaced. Acknowledging that yes, there was someone who would be angry with him.
Maybe enough to finally punish him? He could hope.
He started a little when he was grabbed and tugged up to his feet, weak and utterly uncooperative in terms of helping support his weight. Stronger than expected.
"Not worth it."
But other than that, he didn't really try to stop his savior.
no subject
He didn't seem to mind that his new charge was almost a dead weight, and he did make sure not to walk too fast for him.
It wasn't like this was the first injured person he'd picked off the street. This was, in fact, lowly becoming a habit.
"Just a little further. I live on the ground floor, too, so no stairs."
He lived, in fact, in a small town house that looked entirely too luxurious for someone living on their own at his age.
He cursed a litlle under his breath as he helped his new guest inside and kept him propped up while toeing off his shoes. The bag with the groceries was abandoned in the entrance hall as he brought Soubi further inside, into a living room and onto the couch.
The whole place was a burst of color, almost by constrast with its owner. There were tapestries on the wall, carpets ont he floor, cushions everywhere, and a fire burning merrily in the fireplace.
"Wait here," he said unnecessarily.
no subject
And on to the couch once inside, though there wasn't much point in him trying to toe off shoes as injured and dirty as he was. Something that would have earned him so many beatings were he still at Seimei's side. He barely made any sound of pain, and only when the worst of his injuries were bumped. Just a soft breath, an intake of air that gave it away.
Color all around? He didn't notice. Just slumped over on the couch, head bent to his knees. As if he'd be going anywhere fast, or at all on his own.
no subject
"Help me get your coat off," he said as he started pushing it off Soubi's shoulders. Truth be told, he knew the injury to the hand was more serious, but the few letters he seen under the torn bandage around te man's neck intrigued him more, and a few more minutes would not make his hand more infected anyway.
"Give me your glasses too," he said, holding out his hand for them.
Once they were off, he made a move to take off the neck bandages. They were torn and bloodied anyway, so they would have to be replaced at the very least.
no subject
...But he was so tired. Tired of making his own choices. Tired of everything. So he simply obeyed, forcing his battered body to move again and shrug off the heavy coat. Reminded of the glasses that had managed to stay on his nose, he blinked before simply plucking them off and dropping them carelessly into the hand stretched out to him.
And he was too tired to do more than tense a little at the touch to his neck, but made no attempt to pull away. Why hide the name that had been carved into his neck, the name that bled each time he went against it? 'Beloved'. For someone who was not loved. Ironic.
no subject
... He'd been right. He hadn't wanted to believe it, but he had been right. This person, this... stranger was sporting the word 'Beloved' carved on his throat.
He was used to portents and signs, but they usually did not stare at him in the face like this. He normally had to puzzle things out more and sometimes didn't even know he'd managed to change things until after they'd come to pass.
This, though, was a bit too blatant to ignore.
He traced the letters with the tip of his finger.
"Why do you have my name engraved in your flesh?"
no subject
As for the name being traced by gentle fingertip...it was enough to have his eyes crack open to study his rescuer, then to blink at the question.
It...actually made him a little angry. Enough to send a tired glare as he straightened a little, pulled away as suddenly he didn't really want to be touched.
Was this Seimei's other Fighter? Did he really want to know?
"Your name can't be Beloved. Not your true name."
no subject
"It is, though. That is what my parents named me. I have many names, but that is the first one I was ever given. Why can't it be my name?"
He studied Soubi's face. Even tired as the other man was, it wasn't very difficult to read his expression.
"It makes you angry that this is my name. Why?"
no subject
But the full implications had him frown again. Parents didn't usually know their child's real name until later. And they weren't given. It didn't make sense, but at least it somewhat cooled the anger.
Soubi shook his head a little, looking away and down a little.
"If it's your birth name, forget I said anything. It doesn't matter then."
no subject
He didn't know how he knew that, but he was convinced of it.
"Is it your name as well, then? Beloved? Your... 'true name'?"
He wasn't sure what that meant exactly, but it felt important.
He rummaged in the first aid kit to find some clean bandages. Whateverhad cuased the lood there, it didn't appear there was a wound, really. Very strange.
"No one believes me when I tell them this is my name, you know? Even Fitz didn't believe me at first, and he of all people should know I do not lie."
no subject
"It was supposed to hurt. I wanted it to."
Another brief pause before he shrugged his uninjured shoulder a little.
"I'm blank. I was given the name when I was given to Beloved." Given. A gift. A tool. A possession. But the tone would say loud and clear it had been with his cooperation.
His mouth twitched into a slight smile as he watched the other man search for bandages. "It only bleeds when I go against it."
It didn't matter that he didn't know who Fitz was. The implications did matter, and he paid attention to them.
"My given name is Soubi."
no subject
He wrapped the bandages carefully around Soubi'a neck, almost tenderly and with the ease of someone used to doing this.
"You couldn't be Beloved if you were half as empty as you've convinced yourself you are."
He surveyed his handiwork and nodded once, satisfied.
"Now show me your hand. And who is this other 'Beloved' you were given to? How many of us are there?"
no subject
So he didn't respond to being told he could be so much more.
"I'm not Beloved anymore. I was given to Loveless when Beloved's Sacrifice died." Well. Close enough to the truth that he didn't care to tell the whole truth.
And he did finally hold up the mangled and pierced hand, forcing his arm to move and bend when it really wanted to stay motionless and limp.
"There's a Beloved Fighter out there who hasn't shown up yet." He'd just mentioned the Sacrifice.
no subject
He seemed to be listening intently to Soubi's every word, but when the manw as finished, he looke dup at him and smiled.
"I have no idea what you are talking about. Fighter, Sacrifice... I have a feeling you do not put the same weight behind those words as I do. And you've probably never heard of a Catalyst."
He decided to forgo using the washcloth and simply grabbed the basin of hot water, gently directing Soubi to soak his hand in it.
"Whatever you call a Fighter, I don't think this is what I am. I'm really not very good at fighting. I hold my own, but that's it, really."
He looked at the blood seeping out of the wound into the water. He'd have to change the water and maybe add some antiseptic to it. That would sting, but ti probably wouldn't be a problem for Soubi, from what he'd gathered. But far be it from him to take from someone's self-inflicted punishment.
"From Beloved to Loveless.... and yet someone loves you. Can't you feel it?"
He knew sometimes it was hard for him to put what he meant, felt and saw into words. It never really made sense for other people. Beign a prophet was annoying like that. Especially when you got inklings about things you yourself knew nothing about.