Sherlock Holmes (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
apothegm) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
nexus_crossings2020-05-12 10:11 pm
apothegm) wrote in nexus_crossings2020-05-12 10:11 pm
I don't need to be kind to the armies of night
That had been a long, long drop. He never actually felt the water at the end of the icy plunge, as unexpected a sensation as the sun-warmed stones beneath his back, and as thoroughly welcome as the lack of an enraged, criminal mastermind in his grip. Flailing his way upright was a terrible mistake– the rest of the intact sutures in his shoulder neatly pop, and though still half frozen, that is not a pleasant sensation at all.
It won't take him long to find the helpful, welcoming instructions of the place, the how-to's and cheery pamphlets. Is he dead? All his numerous aches say otherwise.
Satisfied at present with the oddness of his situation, and that his surroundings seem to be going nowhere in a hurry, he'll offer up his question, "How far have you gone, to commit an act of vengeance?"
After a beat, as Holmes shoves the heel of his palm against his fine, if bedraggled dress coat, coming away with a smear of red:
"...and is there a doctor in residence?"
It won't take him long to find the helpful, welcoming instructions of the place, the how-to's and cheery pamphlets. Is he dead? All his numerous aches say otherwise.
Satisfied at present with the oddness of his situation, and that his surroundings seem to be going nowhere in a hurry, he'll offer up his question, "How far have you gone, to commit an act of vengeance?"
After a beat, as Holmes shoves the heel of his palm against his fine, if bedraggled dress coat, coming away with a smear of red:
"...and is there a doctor in residence?"
no subject
Roland stumbles upon the odd, scruffy man and immediately notices his injury.
"I'd offer you a welcome basket, but not sure what good that'll do right now." He says with little amusement. "Let's talk about that vengeance stuff for when you're not bleeding out in the open." His keen brown eyes make a quick assessment of the damage - the primary source of bleeding, and if he was injured elsewhere - and after he's done his duty, he pulls out a Three-Leaf Soreaway medicinal herb from his Arms Band. It's been prepared for consumption in advance, ground into a fine paste and placed in a convenient glass jar.
"I've got something to help with that, just enough to tide you over till I can escort you to the clinic." He leans his arm against his hip jutting to one side as he speaks next. "I'm Roland. Don't worry about pleasantries. It can wait till you're better." Not one for mincing words when help was needed, Roland waits for the man to steady himself further before continuing.