asgardmeridiem | END OF ARC 1: DAY 173 DOWNTIME

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END OF ARC 1: DAY 173 DOWNTIME

[Two days of battle have been harsh. The hospital and the Arena are both nearing full, and the smell of charred wood still remains from the few buildings set on fire in Freya district by a dragon on Day 168. Nothing is truly quiet, but this is another welcome break in the violence.

The only question is: how many more cycles can we survive? Though we did well yesterday, it's clear that we'll be wiped out soon if nothing changes.]

[ooc note: this is the catch-all log for Day 173 (Nov 12-13). There is no battle, but there are a lot of general npc wounded of all different species (some of which are outlined here). You can find the battle log for Days 171-172 here, and the shelter log here.

Please be sure to include the day/time of day in the subject line of top-level threads. Also, be sure to have read the entire plot post.

There is a timeline of all important posts in the ooc comm here. If you have plot questions, please submit them to the plot post so everyone else can get the answers. Thank you!]

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[She shoots him an apologetic look. She feels bad that she's hurting him, though it's truly what needs to be done. She picks another piece of gauze up and lifting her hand, pressed it down on the others.]

I have met a few others. Arthur and Mithian. [She peeks up at him.] I must admit I grew up hearing stories of Camelot. I never thought them to be real.

[So she does know the stories. He must truly be a let down then, wounded and useless on the sidelines.]

It seems many people have heard some tales. I cannot say if they speak of our land, there seem to be many Camelots across different worlds.

[Of course she's not let down, even heroes get wounded. She lifts the gauze for a moment, studying the wound and then presses it back down.]

So it seems. Asgard is certainly an interesting mix of people. [She reaches for a bottle of water so she can get ready to clean his wound out.] Does speaking of this make you uncomfortable? I can't imagine it's the easiest thing being known by so many people.

It is not I who is known, it is a man sharing my name.

[He was only knighted within Asgard, and so far has done very little to prove himself worthy of the faith placed in him.]

I'm not certain I understand. [Inara looks up at him, confused.] You're name is Lancelot and you're from Camelot... How is it you are a different man?

[She lifts the gauze again, and seemingly pleased with the look of things, uncaps the water and carefully pours it over the cut. She quickly shoots him an apologetic look again and setting the water to the side, reaches for the antibiotic cream.] This next one might burn...

[He shivers and bites down on his lip at the water.]

There are different Camelots. From the little I've heard of the stories they tell of me, it sounds unlike me.

[Great knight, great warrior, great nobleman. Not a scared little boy who escaped the destruction of his village and wanted to make sure the same never befall anyone else.]

I'm ready.

Perhaps you've yet to become the one they've heard about. From what I've been lead to understand, it's quite possible to come from different points in time.

[Uncapping the cream, she very carefully applies it to Lancelot's wound, taking care to use the lightest of her touches.]

How did you get this?

[He will never not be lowborn. He cannot change his blood, nor would he if he could. He loves his parents, their memory guides him through every step he takes.

He doesn't say it though, with all the pain and suffering going around, she doesn't his life's story.

He hisses, his eyes shutting again in pain. His hands clench into tight fists and he bites down on his lip hard enough to draw blood.

But no profanities escape his lips, even now. No screams either.]

Drained it. [He speaks through gritted teeth.]

Bǎobèi, you should not have taken so much upon yourself.

[She casts him a worried look, and set aside the bloodied gauze and cream. Picking up another stack of gauze, she pressed it against his wound and then carefully taped it in place. For extra precaution, she picked up a bandage so she could wrap it around him and just make sure the gauze would stay in place.]

I'm truly sorry because I know this hurts, but I need you to lean forward.

What? [A lot of people use words he doesn't understand, but that really truly sounds nothing like anything he's ever heard before.] He was dying, this is a far better alternative.

[He can deal with the pain, if it's for another's life. He takes a deep breath and tries to move, his arms shaking with the effort to keep himself steady.]

I'm sorry, I forget that not everyone speaks Chinese here.

[And she's not bothering to translate what she'd said, she's just briskly moving right along.]

Feel free to lean on me while I do this. [And truly she wouldn't mind if he did. He's obviously been through a lot and is obviously in a lot of pain still. She wishes her ability would let her alleviate some of it.

She leans into him though, carefully winding the bandage around him.]

You should get this seen by a doctor as I've no formal training regarding this sort of thing.

Chinese? [Even the word sounds funny to him; he knows very little of the world beyond the few realms he visited.]

I'm alright -- [he's got too much pride and propriety to lean against a woman, especially while half naked. Their closeness is quite embarrassing to him, especially after what happened with Raven.

He doesn't know how to deal with these modern women.

It's a good idea probably, but he won't go, not unless Arthur or Merlin drag him there. There are too many people who need it more.]

You've done more than I could ask for, thank you.

It's a language people speak where I'm from.

[She could explain it more in depth, but... It would be a bit strange explaining her world to someone who hadn't even heard of space travel where they're from. She'll just keep it simple for now.

She does shoot him a look though. She can see just how all right he truly is. She shakes her head and merely finishes bandaging him up. No need to argue with him.]

A friend of mine is a doctor. You should truly let him look this over, you might require stitching.

Oh.

[Obviously, yes. The blood loss seems to take away from his mental abilities.]

Surely there are better uses of his time, people who would die without his attention.

[He won't take him away from them, he won't die, not right now, not from this. Not unless it infects.

Going back out into the field like this might bring about his death but he has faith in his abilities. If he could only get enough rest...]

[She sits back a little, looking over her handiwork and then is fussing with the bandage again, wanting to make sure it just won't randomly fall off. Sorry, Lancelot, Inara is a worrier.]

I'm certain he wouldn't mind taking the time to look you over.

[She glances around for a moment and then looks back to him.]

Is your room near by?

[A light blush appears on his otherwise pale face at that; he's not used to having a woman so close by, especially not while shirtless.]

The people who need his expertise to survive will.

[He takes a few shaky breaths.]

In Thor.

[She can't help but smile seeing the blush form across his cheeks. She's rather use to having that effect on people, but it still makes her smile all the same.]

Very well, but if you won't let him see you, you'll be stuck with me for the next couple of hours.

[She just wants to ensure he'll be okay.]

Come then, I'll escort you to it so you can get some sleep, you'll feel better after some.

You need not trouble yourself -

[He cannot ask this of her, he won't even ask this of Merlin.] You should rest yourself, we cannot know how long a reprieve we will have.

[He reaches for his shirt - he may not be able to put on his armor right now, but he can at least show some modesty.]

It's no trouble at all.

[She shakes her head and begins to pack the first aid kit back up.] Truly, I won't be able to rest if I'm worrying about you. A few hours and then I'll be on my way and out of your hair.

[Slowly he pulls the shirt over his head and straightens it out. He picks up his shirt of mail next, tucking it under his arm as he attempts to pull himself up. Slow - easy - trying to aggravate the wound, not to mess up her bandaging.]

You're too kind, my lady. You need not worry -

[Her lips press together and she's immediately right back at his side, first aid kit forgotten, grasping his elbow and helping him.

This one was stubborn.]

I shall worry immensely, it's a fault of mine.

[He allows her to help him, but straightens up a little more than his body approves of. He bears it anyway, to keep up appearances. He doesn't want her worrying even more.]

It is hardly a fatal wound, I only need some rest, as you said.

[She's quite use to dealing with stubborn men. Actually she pretty much specializes in them. She keeps a light hold on his elbow and looks up at him with wide eyes. She could play this game.]

Then allow me to see you to your room. It would ease my mind and give me a chance to further talk with you.

[He has to admit that he would reach home much faster with her help, which will leave him with longer to rest. So he nods at last.]

Very well.

[She flashes him a bright smile. She got her way, so all is well for the time being. She leans over, gathering her things up and then she's standing up, casually tucking her arm through his.]

Well then, let us be on our way. We'll take it nice and easy, okay?

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