( 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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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?
no subject
Yo, what if I'm not actually dead?
no subject
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?
no subject
[ 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.) ]
no subject
it's the moment of truth. does he feel a heartbeat? )