Lana Del Taco (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lana_del_taco) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
bakerstreet2016-10-31 10:53 pm
lana_del_taco) wrote in bakerstreet2016-10-31 10:53 pm
( nursed back to health shipping meme )
|
( au and cross-canon welcome. I'm good with either or for who takes care of who! )
(would you be interested in a random ass crossover?)
[ let's stick with gen, please. open to either role. ]
[Not quite the right canon, but...care to end up in Ivy's garden?]
[ either goes! His bedside manners are horrible, though. ]
[Caretaker. Crosscanon welcome. Shipping would be slow burn if it happens.]
This was going to be a problem.
Mostly because 'this' was a gaping wound along his side that was bleeding more than he really could spare, especially given all that had leaked out of his knees and one of his arms and even the gash on his head from falling onto the pavement seemed to be eeking out a decent amount of the stuff. It was almost entrancing, really, watching it flow out of him, spreading slick and dark on the pavement.
It was still a problem, though. He was reasonably certain he was going to die, in fact. And a part of him, a significant part of him, was annoyed at that if only because he definitely had more work to do. There were still Withered out there, Withered he knew the names of but hadn't found yet. Withered who would harm people, had harmed people for thousand of years. And here he was, breaking his rules, dying and letting that continue.
It was almost enough to help him push himself up. Almost. Not quite.
His fingers were going numb, numb enough that the support cane he'd used as both a defense and an offensive weapon during the fight with the Withered he'd just managed to send to
Well, wherever they went. If they went anywhere but the sewer, the sludge of their soulstuff still bubbling a little in the dark of the alley behind the hospital.
Honestly, he'd thought he was done with dealing with hospital dwellers. After that one disease vector that'd been such a damn hassle, he'd really been prepared to never get near a hospital his entire life, especially considering that the US Government was hunting him (among others). But this one had needed pain, had needed suffering in order to be even moderately normal, and that had led them both to this strange little town and this strangely well equipped hospital.
Why was he thinking about all of these things? Because he was dying and it was better to think of all those things than about Brook or Marcie or Clayton or anything else. Maybe it would be all right to let himself break the rules just one time...
Mostly because 'this' was a gaping wound along his side that was bleeding more than he really could spare, especially given all that had leaked out of his knees and one of his arms and even the gash on his head from falling onto the pavement seemed to be eeking out a decent amount of the stuff. It was almost entrancing, really, watching it flow out of him, spreading slick and dark on the pavement.
It was still a problem, though. He was reasonably certain he was going to die, in fact. And a part of him, a significant part of him, was annoyed at that if only because he definitely had more work to do. There were still Withered out there, Withered he knew the names of but hadn't found yet. Withered who would harm people, had harmed people for thousand of years. And here he was, breaking his rules, dying and letting that continue.
It was almost enough to help him push himself up. Almost. Not quite.
His fingers were going numb, numb enough that the support cane he'd used as both a defense and an offensive weapon during the fight with the Withered he'd just managed to send to
Well, wherever they went. If they went anywhere but the sewer, the sludge of their soulstuff still bubbling a little in the dark of the alley behind the hospital.
Honestly, he'd thought he was done with dealing with hospital dwellers. After that one disease vector that'd been such a damn hassle, he'd really been prepared to never get near a hospital his entire life, especially considering that the US Government was hunting him (among others). But this one had needed pain, had needed suffering in order to be even moderately normal, and that had led them both to this strange little town and this strangely well equipped hospital.
Why was he thinking about all of these things? Because he was dying and it was better to think of all those things than about Brook or Marcie or Clayton or anything else. Maybe it would be all right to let himself break the rules just one time...
i went with phantom arm pains if that's cool, if not let me know and i can re-do!
dps
- 2016-11-01 13:09 (UTC) - Expandi read the last tag i gave you and realize there were like a million grammar mistakes, i'm sorry
dps
- 2016-11-05 20:32 (UTC) - ExpandNo worries! I didn't notice them and understood it well, so...
headlion
- 2016-11-06 07:29 (UTC) - Expand[ooc: I haven't roleplayed Lyla in a while so I'm jumping at the chance to comment on your post.]
Edited 2016-11-03 12:56 (UTC)
(Probably the one nursing, all things considered, but I wouldn't be against a goddess somehow being harmed and healed. Open to gen, shippy, or smutty threads.)
(OoC: Want to take care of a princess?)
[ either role. ]
[Any interest in this awkward boy? He'd be terrible as either role, which could be fun]
Peter Parker/Spider-Man | Marvel 1610 (ultimate comics) | ota
nerdylilspidey
2016-11-01 07:01 am (UTC)(link)
[ota with f/f preference; either role]
Page 1 of 3