theotherright: (thanks I hate it.)
Arthur Lester ([personal profile] theotherright) wrote 2022-10-11 08:51 pm (UTC)

[ Arthur knows the smell of blood extremely well. He can tell what this is, and he can tell that there is a lot of it. ]

Oh, [ he says, low, shaken even without being able to see the uh, friendly little 'humans can lick too'-ass note. ] Oh jesus.

[ Okay, there's-- his cane is touching a soft lump outside the door and he really really hopes it's not a body. Impulsively, he crouches to check, and-- it's fabric? A towel?-- no, there are sleeves-- a robe? ]

Oh god, it's saturated--

[ His stomach turns over. He half intends to burst into the cabin itself and find out if this is a trail that leads inside, find out what the fuck is going on, but he stops himself-- he's reckless, but he's not that reckless. This much blood didn't get here by itself: someone's hurt or dead, and he doesn't know who but he's Worried and he needs his eyes right now--

Arthur's phone is in his now-bloody hand, and a quiet robot voice is very rapidly yelling out HOMESCREEN! SHIPTALK! RECENTS! as he hurriedly navigates to text his fucking roommate.

Crichton you need to get back to the cabin

Speech-to-text is a blessing, because he's still not used to using the weird little screen keyboard thing, and he's not about to stop and figure out the damn thing now. ]

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