[ Tim's not usually one to improvise, but then again... desperate measures. With his rushed application of first aid, it's not like the clock is ticking before he bleeds out. While he frets over the notion that the pressure applied to his wound is all that he's kept him kicking so far, there hasn't been enough time to be any more thorough. Guess this is where his surprise visit comes in, stumbling in Ann's direction the moment she opens the door. She catches him before he can fall, and while he wants to thank her for it, he's unoffended to be cut off by her entirely justified distress. ]
This isn't an emergency. I've seriously had worse.
[ Maybe that's not a good thing. Tim's assessment of danger - his own sense of self-preservation - has definitely been questionable before. ]
Yeah, I think 4's accurate. Though... a 3.9 might be more realistic. My body feels heavy.
[ He's just amusing himself, being needlessly particular. And it's here, in the bathroom, that Tim watches Ann produce the first aid kit. In the meantime, though, he languidly drops the cape, the cowl, the top half of his suit. With his adrenaline wearing off, he's getting sluggish. And now, with nothing concealing his upper body save for the bandages around his stomach, a lot of the damage Tim has sustained is in plain view. Much of it, thankfully, is superficial-- some worse than others. Luckily, no damaged arteries to speak of - not even where he's been bleeding from below his chest. ]
If you need me to, I can take this off.
[ He gestures at the bandages. ]
As for explaining, well. Cultists. Ninja cultists.
Found them too late. A lot of those missing persons I was texting you about-- the ones I couldn't rescue became blood sacrifices.
To summon demons.
[ It's no wonder he's in bad shape. Not much in his utility belt's default inventory to counteract the supernatural. ]
But I escaped fine enough. Planted a tracer on one of the robes, better hope it leads me to their next hideout.
[ He winces as abdominal pain seizes him, his hand tempted to clutch the site. Before nearly doing so, he relents, knowing better than to aggravate the wound. ]
no subject
This isn't an emergency. I've seriously had worse.
[ Maybe that's not a good thing. Tim's assessment of danger - his own sense of self-preservation - has definitely been questionable before. ]
Yeah, I think 4's accurate. Though... a 3.9 might be more realistic. My body feels heavy.
[ He's just amusing himself, being needlessly particular. And it's here, in the bathroom, that Tim watches Ann produce the first aid kit. In the meantime, though, he languidly drops the cape, the cowl, the top half of his suit. With his adrenaline wearing off, he's getting sluggish. And now, with nothing concealing his upper body save for the bandages around his stomach, a lot of the damage Tim has sustained is in plain view. Much of it, thankfully, is superficial-- some worse than others. Luckily, no damaged arteries to speak of - not even where he's been bleeding from below his chest. ]
If you need me to, I can take this off.
[ He gestures at the bandages. ]
As for explaining, well. Cultists. Ninja cultists.
Found them too late. A lot of those missing persons I was texting you about-- the ones I couldn't rescue became blood sacrifices.
To summon demons.
[ It's no wonder he's in bad shape. Not much in his utility belt's default inventory to counteract the supernatural. ]
But I escaped fine enough. Planted a tracer on one of the robes, better hope it leads me to their next hideout.
[ He winces as abdominal pain seizes him, his hand tempted to clutch the site. Before nearly doing so, he relents, knowing better than to aggravate the wound. ]
Uh, I'll come prepared.