[Legault supposes he shouldn't have been surprised that the young demon would happen to stumble into his home in his hour of need. He needs to act quickly; the man is clearly panicked, and that will not do, so he approaches, pressing a couple of pills and a glass of water into Lyn's hand.]
[Given his state, Legault's unexpected presence jars Lyn so badly that he knocks the entire table the phone is on over as he jerks away.] Motherfuck - !
[But then he sees the purple hair, and that triggers recognition and slow relaxation, or as much as he can relax when in intense pain and fear. His hand was smarter than he was, and kept hold of what Legault gave him; he manages to shakily pop the pills in his mouth and down them with the water, hardly even caring what they are. If they make him drop dead, then hey, his hand'll get healed, right? So there is pretty much nothing they can do to make the situation worse.
He's still clutching the hand to his chest, and the front of his shirt is unsurprisingly soaked in blood. His free hand is tightly clutching his wrist, as though trying to serve as a tourniquet.] Need a doctor or something...
[Lyn miserably extends his hand. It's a mauled mess; some of his fingers aren't even intact, although his efforts at keeping his fist clenched to protect them did save a few...but it doesn't look like that will matter, since with how torn up his hand is none of them are probably usable.]
Comments 21
Take these, they'll help with the pain.
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[But then he sees the purple hair, and that triggers recognition and slow relaxation, or as much as he can relax when in intense pain and fear. His hand was smarter than he was, and kept hold of what Legault gave him; he manages to shakily pop the pills in his mouth and down them with the water, hardly even caring what they are. If they make him drop dead, then hey, his hand'll get healed, right? So there is pretty much nothing they can do to make the situation worse.
He's still clutching the hand to his chest, and the front of his shirt is unsurprisingly soaked in blood. His free hand is tightly clutching his wrist, as though trying to serve as a tourniquet.] Need a doctor or something...
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I never thought I'd want to have Serra around... let me see it. I can drive you to the hospital.
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[Lyn miserably extends his hand. It's a mauled mess; some of his fingers aren't even intact, although his efforts at keeping his fist clenched to protect them did save a few...but it doesn't look like that will matter, since with how torn up his hand is none of them are probably usable.]
Just...not the hospital. No more drones.
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