Snippet #2811014

located in Scarriden, a part of many of horror, one of the many universes on RPG.

Scarriden

Villains are not the most frightening thing in the shadows here.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lucian Mitchell Character Portrait: Markus "Shadowfaux" Vasco
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LUCIAN MITCHELL
the villain - 2d2a2f - outfit
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xxand with the black banners raised
xxand the crooked smiles fade
xxformer heroes who quit too late
xxwho just want to fill up the trophy case
Luc smirked at Markus' response to the alcohol, glad that they agreed on that much. He took two glasses out of the cupboard and filled them both with a measure of whiskey. He frowned a little as Markus said he'd almost forgotten about the wound. Luc wasn't quite sure how exactly a person could do that and decided that the hero evidently had an insane pain tolerance. As if that wasn't obvious.

"Right, bathroom, we'll get you cleaned up then," he said. "Drink this first," he said, pressing the glass into Markus' hand. He was tempted to down his own glass, but figured that probably wouldn't make Markus feel any better, so simply put it down on the coffee table. He went into the bathroom and dug out the supplies he would need, washing his hands.

"I know this really isn't the circumstances either of us thought I'd be saying this in, but take your shirt off," he instructed. "You need painkillers or anything? When your ability means that you frequently feel like you've been hit by a bus the day after a job, you make a point of keeping a supply of strong painkillers anywhere you could end up after a job," he added as he knelt down to look at the wound, finding he had the best view of it that way. Gently, he touched the skin around the wound to examine it. "Stitches all look fine. Might clean it up a little and put a clean bandage on it. It's probably gonna scar no matter what, but let's see what we can do to minimise that, mm?" He said. He'd done this too many times before. Back when he was basically still a kid, working in teams of people, when they'd have to patch each other up after a job. Talking kept people conscious, kept them focused on you, minimised the amount of pain they were in. And sometimes if it was too late, it would just make sure they didn't feel alone.