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Post by Deleted on Jan 4, 2017 0:48:35 GMT -6
If nothing else, Veles couldn't really complain about the day. No rain or clouds up above, just some sweet sunshine, leaving a nice warmth at his back. The air even smelled a little sweet, but it could have been the apple that the red clad man crunched on. Oh, he chewed politely enough, but he made sure that every single bite had a nice, loud crunch to it. A common sign of his good cheer.
Yes, it was a perfect day for some ruthless bloodshed. Some may have thought sunshine and fair weather made for a contrast, but ah, Veles wasn't “some”. He was more of a “one and only”. But he wasn't alone as he strode down the dirt path.
“You know, bro...” Veles began, after swallowing another juicy bite of his apple. His icy blue eyes cast aside to look at his somewhat smaller companion. They shaired the same fair hair, but there was a notable difference in the shading if one took a close look. The similarities didn't end there, though if you asked Veles, he was certainly better dressed. If nothing else.
“I still think you could have grown to be taller than me, if you had just eaten more apples as a kid.” An old joke, but a good one. Where else to start when your last experience with your sibling had ended in an absolute massacre, right? Veles shot his younger brother a small smirk before he raised his apple up in front of him. “Oh, and your milk too. Definitely could have used a little more milk.”
That sort of small talk wasn't exactly what Veles lived for. But hey, it was better than silence! Taking a final bite from his apple, Veles tossed the core over his shoulder and swallowed back the juicy fruit.
“Maybe then you wouldn't have to have made your sword compensate for your height, huh kiddo?” A brief pause. "That uh, IS, what it's compensating for, right? Your height? Y'know what? Never mind. Don't answer that." Just as the man clearly had no filter, there was no malice in Veles' tone. There almost never was, for such jabs and cracks were always in good humor. Everything was stated with, at the least, an aloof or dry tone. But his mood was indeed good that day. Exterminating monsters was a great way to spend some time and make a some quick gold. Better still Veles got to do it with his brother. If he recalled they hadn't actually gone on a hunt TOGETHER before. Veles was already all over Elibe by the time Victor had started up.
Another sweet bonus was the chance to test out his new sword. It hadn't come with a scabbard, so the silver blade gleamed in the sunlight. Probably a pretty bad idea to let it stay exposed. That gleam could give them away. One could also argue weather damage, but given the fact that the sword was pristine despite its age, Veles had a feeling upkeep wasn't going to be much of an issue with it.
“Still, I don't think I ever told you how jealous I am that you made that thing on your own. I never thought of a...” Veles' brow quirked. Off the dirt path, a fair feet ahead of them, appeared to be a...corpse. It wasn't moving, and it was covered in blood. Probably a corpse. Huh, were they that close to the village already? Or did this chick just get hella unlucky?
“Up ahead, Vic.” Veles adjusted his path and proceeded to move closer. He still needed to confirm if it was a corpse or just someone unconscious, but if it WAS a corpse maybe its wounds had been caused their prey. Still, he had to whistle at the damage he already saw. “Looks like she had a rough time. Come on, let's check her out.”
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Post by Victor on Jan 4, 2017 13:49:01 GMT -6
If nothing else, Victor had his complaints to fall back on about the weather. It just didn't feel...like home. Most of his life had been in the rain laden isles. Where 90% of the time it was pouring rain, and the other 10% of the time he was inside because of monsoons and couldn't tell if it was still raining or if the gods were just smacking sticks against their house. Then there was the warmth. His traditional garb of black heavy leather, in layers, was exceptional and superb for insulating warmth in colder climates. As well as staying dry. What it wasn't great for though? Sunshine. It had him nearly baking internally. In-fact, he was fairly sure that the pastry he'd eaten earlier was ready to be eaten again and had been cooked to perfection inside the roasting shell that was his lower torso. Then the smells.
There wasn't any iron. No metallic scent of a fresh kill. No smell of fish or the oceans salt. Just...landlocked town. Well. If he tried really hard, the snowy haired huntsmen could smell-..no..that was just his brother's apple. No fresh oceanic scent to be had. It almost made him wish he'd kept his mask up instead of lowering it. He could've dipped it in the sea-water at some point upon departing from the boat that'd brought them to Elibe.
You know, bro..
Though his expression was entirely passive, Victor almost felt confident enough to wage money that this had to do with his height. Or his eating habits. Or about his coat color. Veles loved to talk about his red coat. Victor quietly gazed ahead, noticing that if he tilted his head down at juuuuust the right angle he could see the tip of his hat even though it wasn't level with the ground like normal. Now that he'd brought that to his attention, he lowered it slightly to better block out that horrendous light coming down upon them.
Annnnnnnnd height it was. Victor wasn't by any means the shortest member of their family, but he had been far from the tallest as well. Though he didn't regret his dietary choices at all either. Water, and meat. His brother could have all the apples in the world, or all the vegetables even. Victor didn't like greens. That was the food his food ate. So he wouldn't regret it. Though he did indulge in sweets sparingly. Especially since the only food he had on his person was usually lengths of jerky from various meats. Again, meat was love and meat was life, but it got bland if that was all he ate. His soft tone belittled the darker thoughts as his mental imagery drifted to carving up deer or bear for jerky, and the actual process of making it. Again recalling the pleasant musky scent of metal in the air from blood, this time less so from a hunt and more so from the mess when butchering an animal.
"Milk makes you thirstier. I hate being thirsty."
The scratchy warmth in the throat that it had for an after taste was a downside too. Then again, Victor wasn't much for meals or meal combinations. The snowy haired boy tilted his head to examine ahead, while his brother spoke on. This time his palm resting idly upon his blades hilt absently, as if more just something to do with his hand compared to it sitting idly stationary upon his side.
"Compensate? My sword's just the right size. The weight and balance are perfect. Sure it gets a bit longer and heavier and unwieldy when it extends but that's one of the reasons I like it. It's unique to me. No one else can really compare to it. So why would I worry about my height and try to compensate for that? People can't laugh if their bleeding after they've been disemboweled."
His tone was almost cheery, though still quiet. He turned to smile towards his older brother a bit before averting his gaze back to the town. Victor had just started to ponder again how unlike home this place was, until his brother pointed out the body. Then he picked up that scent. Metal. Hanging in the air, and the pungent aroma of spilt blood. Heavy enough that he assumed it was fresh.
Okay. It's a bit more like home now.
His faint smile etched upon soft features as the young huntsman picked up his pace, quickening to the fallen body along-side his brother. Kneeling quietly to observe before looking to the faintest of movements of the chest before turning to gaze up at his red-clad brother.
"She's alive. Don't think that'll stay the way though. She's bleeding a-lot. A-lot."
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Post by Deleted on Jan 6, 2017 9:56:20 GMT -6
There was no rumbling chuckle to build up to the practical explosion of laughter that erupted from Veles. He threw his head back and let loose a whooping laugh. He couldn't really help it. Yeah, Victor had never really picked up on innuendo or the like, but with a response like that one could easily think otherwise. Veles knew the truth, though, and that truth was Victor was blissfully naieve. Innocent, in a sense.
And that led in to Veles' job. Innocence, after all, was meant to be protected.
...Pfft, yeah right. where's the fun in that?
“Whoa there, Hung-Lao, no need to go braggin' now.” Veles managed to utter out between his chortles, a hand moved down to his chest as it began to feel the stress of such laughter. “Well, anyway, I'm sure whoever winds up at the other end of such a magnificent, unique instrument is one lucky customer.”
Though, speaking of the disemboweled and lucky women, Veles' glee began to die down as he gazed at the poor unfortunate soul before him. Turned out she wasn't a corpse after all. Now that they were close Veles could see the faint signs of breathing. And given the intensity of her wounds, well, either she was really lucky, one tough lady, or some kinda masochist. There was...too much blood, though. No WAY all of that was hers, or she'd have died a long time ago.
Either way, given that she was actually, Veles decided he could speculate AFTER they did something about. Neither of the brothers were any good with a staff, most that did went to church and Veles was near certain he'd catch fire in one. Or not. Maybe he was Elimine's type? Either way, they both had plenty of experience stitching up people. Their father, their sister, themselves, etc. Stitches were the Gennings family hallmark. Some families had family portraits. Others had family tatoos. The Gennings had to be more hardcore.
So he knelt before the bloody mess of a girl. “Hey Vic, you were always better at stitching up dad's wounds back home. Probably best if you handle this.” Veles slipped a black, had to match of course, pack off his shoulder and rifled through it. Nothing much in the way of pain killers, but he had alcohol for disinfectant, gauze, and a suture kit stowed away in there. Along with plenty of other first aid kits. A real “Hunter's Gift Bag” in a sense. If the Gennings family ever threw a party, packs like these would be what they gave out to everyone who came.
More practical than, say, a piece of cake or a toy, and twice as exciting!
“I'll handle the kit and the tools, you just get to working those magic fingers. I'd use mine but uh, we're trying to save her life, not make her...” Veles trailed off as his gaze wandered towards the grass near her fallen body. No signs of any tracks, save some rather average looking footprints. Likely hers. Unless she was attacked by a gargoyle or a really pissed off bird, nah no fallen feathers in sight, then she had actually staggered her way out here before she collapsed.
Still, his little perceptions and speculations didn't stop him from opening up the suture kit for Victor. He didn't mind his little bro playing doctor. Nurses had more fun anyway.
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Post by Victor on Jan 11, 2017 21:51:09 GMT -6
Honestly. Lucky? He prided himself in the ease at which he could disembowel someone. Delimbing coming in close second. Especially if he caught them in the shoulder. The number of times he'd snagged someone with his blade latching onto and coiling around the ball joint or the actual rotary point of the shoulder, only for one solid flick to lop it clean off. The weight behind it, and the resistance as he pulled the bladed whip through flesh, muscle, and sinew was a joy like no other. Like taking a knife and sawing through well cooked meat really, but in one motion. So how his brother could associate such as lucky was beyond hi-
Oh right the dying lady. That's a thing.
Victor quietly knelt further over her and began to trace gloved fingers slowly along the contour of her figure. Before he quickly began to sift through the various wounds, taking brief moments to examine each one while his brother began to remove the medical equipment. Victor lowered his mask further so it posed no change of hindering his jaw, and pulled out a small pair of clippers from his pouch while his brother removed the bandages and sutures. Pulling his black leather gloves off, so that he could rely on the unhindered movements and dexterity he'd need with his fingers, Victor reached for the first essentials. Taking a moment to thread the suture needle, he lifted it to his mouth to bite at the thread lightly to clip part of it. Using this point, he wove it through the needle. From one of his own packs he grabbed a somewhat thick brown cloth square and moved to the wounds along her lower torso first. These ones were the ones that would bleed the heaviest.
Cleaning the initial wound areas wasn't a difficult task, but would shorten how slippery and slicked his hands would get with her blood. Keeping his gloves on wouldn't have helped either as the leather when wet would've been a far harder surface to pinch and grip the needle with. The snowy haired huntsman began to stitch the first of her wounds. Weaving the needle with ease through thin layers of flesh, crossing the thread and knotting up the first wound as if he were a seamstress of flesh. Actions well practiced, but upon other, more familiar bodies.
It was a time consuming process. A few minutes per stitch at times, with some of the more severe wounds relying on more intricate motions and some obscure knotting of the thread to seal. By the time he'd moved from her lower torso to her chest, shoulders and forearms his hands had run slick with a crimson stain. Sanguine fluid trailing from his fingers and the heavy metallic musk of blood wafting like a thick aroma, that clogged every breath. It was almost...soothing for the young huntsman.
By the time he'd finished, he knew the next part. Pressure. The stitches would work far better than open wounds but they were just a stopgap. Not a permanent solution. They could be torn open. Rending the thread useless. So to keep it, he had to wrap her wounds. Sure, wrapping wounds on the arms were easy. Lift an arm, wrap it up tight. But the real trouble was the torso. To wrap it around her lower back he had to take time to lift her body slightly. While she wasn't heavy, the awkward angle and her dead weight made her a bit of a difficulty. Speaking of dead...
She doesn't look half bad now, compared to before. Blood's cleaned up some. Wounds stitched and wrapped. Less like a corpse. Well. A fresh one. Now she looks like a tended, wrapped one.
Musings aside, Victor quietly pulled her up for a final wrap around the abdominal before cutting and securely weaving the bandages. The young huntsman looking up to his brother as he slowly lifted the girl at the back, palm pressing to her shoulder blade to lift her up somewhat more so in a faintly reclined sitting position. His usual soft tone unmuffled opposed the norm, with his mask still down.
"She should be somewhere she can safely rest. Otherwise this won't be enough. And they should probably be changed down the road. If she doesn't want infections that is."
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