mayfield_rpg | eighth ; never going to another carnival ever

[ A : ACTION : 1251 WILLIAMS ROAD : MORNING ]

[ Warren is back! Awake, alive.

Also bleeding.

Yes, while his legs are no longer missing, he has fairly decent lacerations just above his knees, and the flow of blood really seems to not want to stop. He swears, hauling himself gingerly out of bed and towards the bathroom where he bandages himself up. Just as gingerly, he makes his way down to the kitchen, thinks better of it, and heads to the living room.

It seems to have taken its toll on him, because he collapses on the couch and falls back asleep. ]

[ B : PHONE CALL TO ANDERS : AFTERNOON ]

Please tell me you're around. I've got a problem... make that two problems.

[ C : PHONE CALL TO THE TOWN AT LARGE : AFTERNOON ]

I never did like carnivals all that much- now I suppose I have another reason entirely to hate them.

Did anyone find anything useful in that place? It was-- I almost want to call it a Mayfield prototype. New and small, and malfunctioning badly. I didn't... last long enough to really find anything.

[ A beat ]

I would also like to learn the name of the young man who shot me.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[That won't stop him from trying. He's always put his full effort behind his healing session, and this is no different.]

[Even when the light in his hands starts to flicker, before snaking its way over his skin like fine cracks.]

[ oh, he recognizes that. ]

Anders. [ His tone is forceful, warning. ]

[It still takes him a moment or two to pull back. When he does, the light vanishes, and he looks like a man who's just run a marathon.]

... They won't heal.

I can see that.

Don't worry about it. At least I'm not going to die of blood loss.

[He scrubs a hand over his face, trying to steady his breathing.]

You're telling a healer not to worry about wounds that won't heal?

It's Mayfield. Let it go.

It's not that simple.

If you want to help, then get some clean bandages and fix it as best you can without magic.

[He nods, and gets to his feet, somewhat mechanically. He'll go find the bandages, yes. It just might take him a minute.]

[ He sighs, massaging his temples. He's going to have to apologize, isn't he? ]

[Probably not. He's just worn out from the magic, right now.]

[But hey, here he is. Bandages at the ready.]

Let's get this done, and move on.

[ Well, he'll apologize anyway. ]

I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you.

[He shakes his head, starting to bandage the other man's legs.]

You're in pain, and you've just come back from spending a good week in... a far worse version of Mayfield.

It's fine.

... Thank you.

I'm only doing as a healer should.

You-- [ Suddenly, the moment is ruined by a loud thud on the front doorstep ]

What the hell?

... Stay here. I'll see what it is.

[Anders that's not a staff that's a lamp -- oh. Okay you're... going to go check the door anyway.]

[ Anders will find... boxes! One small, light one, while the other is significantly larger and heavier. They are both addressed to Warren. ]

What is it?

... Boxes. It would seem you've got some mail.

[Excuse him, as he tries to haul them both inside, while tucking the lamp up under his arm.]

[ He watches for a moment with mild fascination ] Regains, maybe?

[Dragging them inside. All the way over to the couch.]

Possibly. Have a look.

[ He'll go for the smaller box first, then. He tears it open to reveal---

an iPhone.

He does not look happy. ]

Is this some kind of sick joke?

[Warren that better be a rhetorical question, because Anders has no idea what you're holding.]

... What is it?

Something useless.

... Okay, I'm from a good sixty years in the future from the 1950's, which we are supposedly in now. This- [ he holds up the phone ] -is basically a portable version of the phones we have around town. But I can't use it because Mayfield isn't advanced enough for it.

Unless they just expect me to play Angry Birds until we get out of this hellhole.

[He blinks. Honestly, the mage just looks clueless until the explanation of 'portable phones'. At least he's been in Mayfield long enough to know what a 'phone' is, in itself.]

Then I suppose it truly is a joke...

[Hold up.]

Play... what?

[action]

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