asgardmeridiem | [CLOSED] Mutiny Below

Who: Marquise Spinneret Mindfang & John Watson (BBC)
What: Mindfang's conveniently stumbling across a doctor while being too stubborn to go to the hospital.
When: Happy Stabbing Day
Where: Baldr District
Rating: PG-13 (Violence)

At first, Mindfang's attitude to the happenings of the day was flippant or even morbidly amused. So people were getting stabbed? Who cared! Mindfang could handle her own in a fight. Those that were falling victim to these random attacks were probably weaklings who weren't paying enough attention to their surroundings. Too bad for them.

Her opinion changed pretty quickly when she found herself on the other end of a knife. Her knife, sort of. She had never been a trusting individual. She was a troll. Their society was survival of the fittest. Only the strongest survived. Leaving her well-being potentially in the hand of others wasn't an option. Who was there to put faith in beside the Gamblignant herself?

She hadn't expected that to backfire or that she would ever come face to face with herself, albeit several sweeps younger, only to find a knife buried in her bosom. That little bitch. That little bitch was her. And she hadn't stayed around for a fight. This was a stab and run. What a coward.

Mindfang was stronger than that little girl, her pre-scratch self, even as she felt the blade sink further into her chest with each breath. Wrapping her metal fingers around the handle, she tugged the weapon from her body. It would have been a reasonable reaction were she still on Alternia, backed with the strength of her kind. Apparently, her body wasn't as tough as it used to be. With an audible gasp, she let the knife fall to the ground.

Big deal.

It was just--

a stab wound. Just a stab wound.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Oh, a stubborn one. He hasn't had a patient like this in awhile... then again, none of his patients ever had literal blue blood.

"Someone who wants to do his job and help. But if you want to bleed to death on the ground, that's your choice."

His job is his reason, and he doesn't think he needs another one. He wouldn't leave her on the ground just because she's a stranger.

"Your job?" She mused over the words before she concedes with a nod. As a troll of her rank, she didn't have to worry about bleeding out immediately. It was nothing like when she'd lost her arm, for one thing, but it wasn't a wound she could leave unattended to.

"How can you help me?"

"Do you not have doctors where you're from? People who practice medicine... never mind." He quickly dismisses his own questions - they can be asked later. Now, he has to try and treat this woman.

"At the very least, I can make it less painful with the damage draining power I have. I can wrap up the wound until we get to a hospital, too."

"No," she answered, though the information was necessary at the moment. "Injuries aren't as drastic a concern on Alternia as they seem to be here."

Damage draining power? Her own power -- regeneration -- had helped with the injury slightly, but it wasn't strong enough to heal it all the way. Not yet. How did one increase an ability like that? It wasn't as easily practiced as some of the others.

"Fine." She nods at him. "If you're able to decrease the pain, that'll be enough. I refuse to go to a hospital for something as trivial as a stab wound."

Alternia... okay, alien from another planet 100% confirmed. He's not sure what kind of biological differences they may have, but taking pain away will help at least somewhat.

He brings a hand to her arm that's holding the wound, in order to see it. "It'll only take a moment of contact. I promise."

Was she aware of his thought processes, she would have laughed at the fact that her gray skin and giant horns hadn't been enough to confirm it. Nevertheless, she doubted that any difference in biology would affect his power -- things seemed to work strangely here.

She pulled her hand away from her injury, letting him get a good glimpse of it. She was dubious as to how much pain he would be able to take away, but any was better than none, was it not?

Hey, all of this alien junk is still pretty new to him. There's a part of him, though it's small, that's still a bit skeptical about all of this crazy stuff happening.

Regardless, she's got a human-like body and that makes things at least somewhat familiar. He angles himself to press his hand to the base of her wound, and his powers begin to activate. While her pain will begin to subside, his face will begin to show that he's in a slowly increasing pain.

There was probably something cruel about letting him take away her pain at the cost of him experiencing it herself. While the playing field was more even here, her pain tolerance was still well above average.

No pain was better than some, though, and there wasn't a trace of guilt on her face as she watched him. She doesn't comment on it, doesn't even offer so much as a thank you. Instead, she pushes her hand away and says, "It must be quite the day for you."

He doesn't need a thank you, nor is he expecting one from this woman. It doesn't take a genius to notice that she comes off as arrogant, so it's to be expected. Taking her pain away still isn't as bad as when he was shot.

When she speaks, he chuckles. "You have no idea."

"It's awfully kind of you to be helping everyone." It was the closest to a statement of gratitude that the Marquise could offer, but there was something of a smile on her lips. "I owe you a favor in return."

"It's what I- well, it's what doctors do, y'know? You swear an oath when you get the title, might as well do what you signed up for." He gives her a small smile back. It's nothing big, but an acknowledgement of her silent thanks.

"You really don't."

"You'd pass up the opportunity to have a favor to call upon were you to ever need it?" She studied him warily for a moment, eyebrow raised. "You humans are an interesting breed."

"I'm telling you, this kind of thing doesn't need favours - well, not for me anyway. I can't exactly speak for the entire human race."

He holds out a hand, offering a shake.

"How about telling me your name? That'll be your favour. And maybe getting some extra help with that wound, since you won't let me look at it."

A handshake? It's an odd gesture, but Mindfang returns it with a firm shake.

"Marquise Spinneret Mindfang," she answers with a slight smirk. She clearly thinks a little too highly of herself -- she must if she goes out of her way to always include her title. "Though for simplicity's sake, you may refer to me as Mindfang."

"A Marquise? Never had the pleasure of meeting royalty before. Nice to meet you."

He meets her handshake with the same firm grip. "Doctor John Watson. Just John is fine."

"It's a pleasure." She retracts her hand from his, letting it fall back at her side, still stained with her own blue blood. In retrospect, it would have been better to clutch the injury with her metal hand, or at least easier to wash off.

She repeats the name, "John Watson," and nods. "I will be keeping you in mind. Strangely helpful as you are, you aren't excruciatingly painful to have around." He was the opposite actually, if only because he had abilities that were very easily exploited.

[CLOSED] Mutiny Below

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