The squeaking was unending, words made of clicks, grinding, and whistles. Erik opened his eyes to see his Mammet standing on his chest, fussing and slapping him with its tiny metal hands, "Halone..... I knew I would awake to someone fussing at me." Erik took Montblanc by the collar of its metal jacket and sat him on the floor, patting it on the head as he sat up slowly. "I was hoping for a pretty face this time. Oh well." he grunted as he pulled himself to his to feet, taking note of every spike of pain. He turned and looked at Ombre, not something he wanted Siha tripping over if she came by to do a walk through. The pain was pretty bad, he didn't feel like this mess. Sighing he kicked the body, "Asshole, could not wait a few days to be a bother could you?" He looked over at Montblanc, "Grab a few sheets off the furniture and bring them in here, then go get Fury from the HQ. Bring the cart."
As the mammet saluted and ran out the door Erik followed then diverted toward the master washroom. He touched the crystal on the wall for the light, and the one faucet. Walking to a cabinet and opened it, punching a hole in the back, he pulled a large bag through the hole, widening the hole as he pulled. Setting the bag on the counter he limped back to the study. Montblanc had gotten the sheets like he asked. Layering them on the floor he rolled Ombre on to the, his injuries and the slick blood making it harder then it needed to be. Finally done he wrapped the body and tied it up. He stood and looked at the overall mess. "Shit..... this is for later." he left shaking his head.
Back in the washroom he removed his torn and bloody uniform. Slipping off first his gloves and coat, he grabbed the cord in his hair and let it fall over his eyes. Turning he looked at himself in the full length mirror, counting the holes. He removed the rest of his clothing and washed the blood from his hands. Opening the panic bag, a bag most operatives kept hidden in their homes for such events, it contained a few changes of clothes, first aid kits, gil, and a strong spirit. Opening the kit and bottle of rum he drew out a long pair of tongs and drank a long drink before pouring the alcohol over the large tweezers. Sitting on the edge of his tub he first started with his thigh. The hole was rather small but the bruise around it was not. He untied the tourniquet and to his relief it didn't seem to bleed any faster. Slowly he slit the metal fingers into the hole of his leg. Trying not to cry out he focused on the task, listening for the sound of metal on metal. "No different then a small arrowhead." he whispered under heavy breathing. Hearing the sound finally he moved to catch the bullet and drew it out. He had seen these things pulled from bodies in Limsa before, they were notably different from gunblade rounds. Smaller, made from iron, little more then small cannon balls. Tossing it on the counter he reached into the wound again and felt around, making sure there were no little bits left. That done he stood, the pain was there but different as the blood move a bit faster from his leg. Moving to the mirror he looked at his cheek and head to check the graze there. He took a rag and wet it, wiping the blood from the wound he cleaned it. Then taking a needle and medical thread and began to stitch the wound, then repeating the process with his shoulder, forearm, and a few other places. Ending with the bullet wound. Stitching the inner flesh as well as the outer he finished the rum quickly. He would have to make sure and let Alexei check to be sure he had stitched the wounds correctly.
Checking twice to be sure he had not missed anything, he climbed into the shower. The water was cool, but still burned where he bled. Carefully he washed the blood from him. Soon after he was finished and stepped out to dress before he did he glanced at the mirror, so many scars. He sighed and set about packing the wound on the side of his torso and wrapping it. It bled through almost immediately. He sighed and shook is head as he pulled the fresh clothes and boots from the bag, he would have to get that worked on sooner rather then later. He turned and left the washroom. As he walked to the study he looked out the window to see Montblanc sitting on Fury's head, the cart attached to the great bird. He also noted the early sun in the sky. He had been out all night.
Lifting the wrapped body Erik growled. Looking down and her noticed the brown fabric of his trousers over his stitched wound and the side of his shirt had become black and damp with blood during the lift. Ignoring it he continued and carried the body to the cart. Both the mammet and the chocobo looked at him, looks of concern and scolding in their eyes. Erik shook his head and walked back into the house, "Is it to much to ask? One pretty face..." After half an hour he exited the house carrying his panic bag and several sacks. He had cleaned the study and washroom, tossing the sacks into the cart he climbed into the driver seat of the cart and drove for the gate of Nald.
As the mammet saluted and ran out the door Erik followed then diverted toward the master washroom. He touched the crystal on the wall for the light, and the one faucet. Walking to a cabinet and opened it, punching a hole in the back, he pulled a large bag through the hole, widening the hole as he pulled. Setting the bag on the counter he limped back to the study. Montblanc had gotten the sheets like he asked. Layering them on the floor he rolled Ombre on to the, his injuries and the slick blood making it harder then it needed to be. Finally done he wrapped the body and tied it up. He stood and looked at the overall mess. "Shit..... this is for later." he left shaking his head.
Back in the washroom he removed his torn and bloody uniform. Slipping off first his gloves and coat, he grabbed the cord in his hair and let it fall over his eyes. Turning he looked at himself in the full length mirror, counting the holes. He removed the rest of his clothing and washed the blood from his hands. Opening the panic bag, a bag most operatives kept hidden in their homes for such events, it contained a few changes of clothes, first aid kits, gil, and a strong spirit. Opening the kit and bottle of rum he drew out a long pair of tongs and drank a long drink before pouring the alcohol over the large tweezers. Sitting on the edge of his tub he first started with his thigh. The hole was rather small but the bruise around it was not. He untied the tourniquet and to his relief it didn't seem to bleed any faster. Slowly he slit the metal fingers into the hole of his leg. Trying not to cry out he focused on the task, listening for the sound of metal on metal. "No different then a small arrowhead." he whispered under heavy breathing. Hearing the sound finally he moved to catch the bullet and drew it out. He had seen these things pulled from bodies in Limsa before, they were notably different from gunblade rounds. Smaller, made from iron, little more then small cannon balls. Tossing it on the counter he reached into the wound again and felt around, making sure there were no little bits left. That done he stood, the pain was there but different as the blood move a bit faster from his leg. Moving to the mirror he looked at his cheek and head to check the graze there. He took a rag and wet it, wiping the blood from the wound he cleaned it. Then taking a needle and medical thread and began to stitch the wound, then repeating the process with his shoulder, forearm, and a few other places. Ending with the bullet wound. Stitching the inner flesh as well as the outer he finished the rum quickly. He would have to make sure and let Alexei check to be sure he had stitched the wounds correctly.
Checking twice to be sure he had not missed anything, he climbed into the shower. The water was cool, but still burned where he bled. Carefully he washed the blood from him. Soon after he was finished and stepped out to dress before he did he glanced at the mirror, so many scars. He sighed and set about packing the wound on the side of his torso and wrapping it. It bled through almost immediately. He sighed and shook is head as he pulled the fresh clothes and boots from the bag, he would have to get that worked on sooner rather then later. He turned and left the washroom. As he walked to the study he looked out the window to see Montblanc sitting on Fury's head, the cart attached to the great bird. He also noted the early sun in the sky. He had been out all night.
Lifting the wrapped body Erik growled. Looking down and her noticed the brown fabric of his trousers over his stitched wound and the side of his shirt had become black and damp with blood during the lift. Ignoring it he continued and carried the body to the cart. Both the mammet and the chocobo looked at him, looks of concern and scolding in their eyes. Erik shook his head and walked back into the house, "Is it to much to ask? One pretty face..." After half an hour he exited the house carrying his panic bag and several sacks. He had cleaned the study and washroom, tossing the sacks into the cart he climbed into the driver seat of the cart and drove for the gate of Nald.
![[Image: Emblem%252520by%252520Rhea%252520Zaheela%252520x50.png]](https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-5YSh8yMniHU/VlLStr_7SSI/AAAAAAAAIQ4/qLoOmtz-Jdg/s100-Ic42/Emblem%252520by%252520Rhea%252520Zaheela%252520x50.png)
