[ someone may or may not have been gorging themselves on chips, which were doing the opposite of helping her heal anything. she's kind of a bloody mess. ]
( there's no reply, his focus instead on making his way down the path to the gas station. the bell above the door jingles when he arrives, and he glances around despite her saying she's in the back, as if whatever has her in this shape might somehow still be here. (he doesn't truly think it would, it's more a thoughtless reflex than anything.) )
If you're already dead, ( he calls, upon seeing nobody else in the gas station to out her dead status to, ) Then what's all this about dying? ( his feet carry him toward the nearest 'in back'-worthy door (the employee area, whatever that means), though it may not be the correct one. ) It's not as if the dead can properly bleed out.
( he's listening for some sort of sign of un-life, a response to confirm he's headed the right way. )
[ It is indeed the correct one; Parker sits sprawled in one of the janky lawn chairs they kept back there for employees. The hole in her stomach hasn't stopped bleeding, and spoilers, she's been making it worse by cramming in junkfood from the shelves in here. Currently she sits looking like a murder victim, her skin ashen (it always is, though) and her clothing smeared with blood. She gives him a lazy salute to see him. ]
Heeeey, long time no see. [ It's been like 2 days. ] Don't be insensitive to the dead, asshole.
( he slows to a stop when he sees all the blood, though to his credit, he seems more caught off-guard than actually alarmed. )
I'm simply curious, ( he fires back, only a moment or two belated. then feet carry him closer to crouch down and scrutinize the wound. it's not terribly easy to see it with her shirt (or what's left of it after the gut-wound) still in the way, but that's fine. it's not as though he needs to stitch it back up. )
I can help, ( he says now, his tone gone a bit more serious as he covers the caveats. ) But it's not going to be quick, and you'll hear a bit of, well. Screaming. In your mind, not out loud, and it should stop shortly after I'm done. ( if she were looking for reassuring, she asked the literal worst of all the cultivators in this place for help. ) Should I go ahead?
[ Oh, if only Parker had the good sense to be alarmed at a warning like that. Instead she's distracted by a current thought, one that's got her brows furrowed like she's mentally solving trig equations. ]
( that, at least, does indeed stop him short. there's a pause, mouth open, in which he figures out how the hell to even answer that, but then - )
Isn't that something you'd know? ( like, come on, he can't be doing all the work here. she can at at least bring to the table some passing knowledge on whether or not she's dead. ) Have you a pulse? Is your body warm instead of cold?
[ The pulse, though? She's honestly never tried. She considers it for a second, then sticks a finger to her wrist. (She's missed the right spot by a good 2 inches, and looks more and more concerned by that.) ]
( for a long moment he watches her touch her arm with a finger, brow knit just slightly - and then it occurs to him what exactly she's trying to do, and he huffs out a - ) Oh, give me that, ( and reaches out to snatch hold of her wrist, two fingers of his own finding the proper pulse point now instead.
it's the moment of truth. does he feel a heartbeat? )
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in back
whats ur eta
[ someone may or may not have been gorging themselves on chips, which were doing the opposite of helping her heal anything. she's kind of a bloody mess. ]
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( he's never timed the walk from the cabins, so. )
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If you're already dead, ( he calls, upon seeing nobody else in the gas station to out her dead status to, ) Then what's all this about dying? ( his feet carry him toward the nearest 'in back'-worthy door (the employee area, whatever that means), though it may not be the correct one. ) It's not as if the dead can properly bleed out.
( he's listening for some sort of sign of un-life, a response to confirm he's headed the right way. )
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Heeeey, long time no see. [ It's been like 2 days. ] Don't be insensitive to the dead, asshole.
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I'm simply curious, ( he fires back, only a moment or two belated. then feet carry him closer to crouch down and scrutinize the wound. it's not terribly easy to see it with her shirt (or what's left of it after the gut-wound) still in the way, but that's fine. it's not as though he needs to stitch it back up. )
I can help, ( he says now, his tone gone a bit more serious as he covers the caveats. ) But it's not going to be quick, and you'll hear a bit of, well. Screaming. In your mind, not out loud, and it should stop shortly after I'm done. ( if she were looking for reassuring, she asked the literal worst of all the cultivators in this place for help. ) Should I go ahead?
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Yo, what if I'm not actually dead?
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Isn't that something you'd know? ( like, come on, he can't be doing all the work here. she can at at least bring to the table some passing knowledge on whether or not she's dead. ) Have you a pulse? Is your body warm instead of cold?
Do I truly have to walk you through this?
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[ The pulse, though? She's honestly never tried. She considers it for a second, then sticks a finger to her wrist. (She's missed the right spot by a good 2 inches, and looks more and more concerned by that.) ]
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it's the moment of truth. does he feel a heartbeat? )