(Hel wraps her arms around Max’s waist and hoists him up onto the dragon’s back.) Precious cargo, coming through. (She effortlessly almost threw him up on her back and looks at the wounds to assess for some way of treatment.) Unbelieveable. Don’t tell me this was from that Mafia junk you do. I will personally resign you from mafia-ing if you get hurt like this on a regular basis. (She gives a hasty look back at the tree. The scaley bastard’s been silent.)
Max rolled his eyes: Calm down Hel, it’s not the worst I’ve ever received.
Loch looked quite surprised, both at the sudden weight and at the bullet wounds, of course, she had never seen a gun before, even less the effects.
(Hel sputtered some nonsense.) Not the worst!? Excuse you?! But humans have frail flesh bodies with nothing but exploding pellets of death to protect them. And even then, those sometimes backfire! (She makes sure he’s secured on the dragon. Without a saddle, it’s difficult, but hopefully Max has an iron grip. She then puts her claw over his stomach.) This might sting, just bear through it. (The tip of her claws begin to emit a lavender aura that seized for the different areas in his abdomen that the bullets are lodged in. Slowly, they are extracted from Max’s gut.)
Max hissed and cursed under his breath: Jesus fucking Christ!
Hey! Woah! I heard that dude was cool! Show some respect. (She restrained herself from scolding him any further and focused on getting the bullets out. Each small metal was carefully tossed over her shoulder with the grace of a tired old witch. As she dealt with reapairing the holes in his gut and maintaining blood flow, she inspected his nose quickly.) Dang. Your shnoz got some serious abuse. (It felt weird looking at a nose that protrudes from the face rather than lying flat. It’s even weirder seeing it bent out of shape like this. After the holes were dealt with, she observed his nose and began to plan how to repair the not-bone structure. She forgot what it was called. She just hopes she knows how to fix human noses.)
Max rolled his eyes again: I don’t care. Just push my nose back into shape, He brought his hands up to do it himself.
Ameria: And she fell asleep on me…
Mizu: Asleep
Loch slowly laid down, she looked somewhat annoyed about how this chick decided to use her as an operating table without her consent.
[syriant shot loch a crooked grin, and ángel looked sympathetically at hel]
á: "it's pronounced ah-heel. you can just call me angel if you can't say it. and i mean, he doesn't seem too much of a threat. he hasn't talked in a while. and uhh… good luck with the beat up dude? if you want help i'm decent at healing, and syri can cauterize anything that needs it."
[syriant nods]
"Yeah, and I can amputate your wings." She stares at Syriant.
[syriant's grin fell, and he quickly resumed his deadpan and tucked his wings behind him. giving it a second thought, flipped loch off for a few seconds. ángel stared at her, too.]
á: "sorry, but uhh… he was offering his help. you guys had a scuffle like 4 hours ago, there's no reason to reject something that could be life-saving for the sake of your pride. he's not even offering it to you."
"Offering to help who? I'm not this scavenger's mother, in fact, I don't care. It's none of my business about what happens to them, I never agreed to this, nor did I agree to your boyfriend being so damn rude for no reason. Also, if you really are an angel you'd be wielding a flaming sword." Loch rolled her eyes and got the man off her back, grabbing some nearby leaves and gently putting it in his wounds to stop the bleeding and with a yawn flew up to the top of a cave and sat down with a huff.
Loch gives out roasting classes))
[ángel paused for a moment, and then held back a laugh]
á: "boyfriend?" [he chuckled softly] "he's nearly 7 years older than i am, just quite the bastard."
[syriant offered a half-smile and a quick exhale, clearing his throat]
s: "damn right. and-" [he angled his head up, calling out towards the cave] "if it's an apology you're looking for, ask for one and i'll provide!"
[ángel's soft laughter has gotten a little louder]
á: "we're not angels! we're aasimar. the plane-touched. cousins of tieflings."
"That never stopped Whirlpool from trying to marry a one-year-old dragonet. With the consent of the Queen who was all for it."
[both of them stopped in their tracks and looked questioningly up at the cave]
b: "what?"
á: "you guys must have a… much different culture."
s: "how old do you guys even get?"
She looked them dead in the eyes and responded; "Over one hundred (I know our age system is really weird). Also; he was found dead in the electric eel river, evidence was found he attacked Anemone, (the dragonet) and she used her powers to fend him off, and he slipped in there. I would say more but I know you couldn't handle it."
[syriant snorted coldly, but held his tongue]
á: "well i guess your dragonets can defend themselves, that's good? it's… still a little strange in my eyes for an adult to hold a romantic relationship with a child, but go off i guess."
"I really wish I was joking, I really, really do."
[after a beat syriant piped up]
s: "you might like our friend amrua. he's a chaotic snark, but he's 138 years old and tired of humans and elves."
Ameria: Can't… get …up…
"You might like my friend Rust, to be honest, he's kinda' cute. Well, for a male." she scoffs jokingly, "He's a brain over brawn kind of guy and really nice. Then there's also Thunderbird who I don't know what she thinks about, but she's chill, so I like her too."
s: "huh. wonder if we could figure out a way to get back and forth from this place, then you could meet them. what's rust act like?"
"Well he's shy and likes to read, you know, typical scroll-worm."
á: "awww! we love a shy one. maybe he could teach ol' crusty here a thing or two"
s: [he pulled his lips back in a playful snarl, revealing ever so slightly sharper than normal teeth] "i'm only 25, you baby. what about thunderbird?"
"Well, as I said, she's pretty chill, she's like the back-against-the-wall kind of dragon."
[ángel smiles at this, and syriant gives a thoughtful expression]
s: "i'm assuming that means something like down-to-earth in our terms?"
"Yeah, but I mean it's the cliche, cool guy thing."