07-12-2018, 08:32 AM
"ah... shit."
eyelids heavy he awakes to the sound of water crashing into him, pushing him further into the strange land he had been washed onto. his hazy gaze lifts and he's barely able to focus on his surroundings but he can tell he was nowhere near home. the sun is too bright, blinding almost, and this causes for the kishu inu to groan in distaste. he feels pain searing across his body, white hot and relentless. it takes the breath out of his already strangled lungs and so ryuusaki turns to look at the damage his relatively frail body had been dealt. the injuries... were not the worse thing he's seen. as a doctor who had tended to criminals that got themselves involved with gory knife-fights all too often, he considered himself lucky that his innards were still in their respective places. he shakes the water and sand from his eyes, realizing with a start that... something was missing. his first-aid kit. hell. with his injuries the way they were, ryuusaki knew he would bleed out on this deserted island (or so he believed it to be deserted) if he didn't find some way to improvise. and so, he begins looking.
his injuries consisted of mostly cuts and bruises, small and insignificant. he wouldn't waste his time with those if he managed to find anything. he had two sizable gashes; one on his side and the other... in a less than fortunate place right between his eyes. he imagined he probably hit rock when he fell or at least the coral seabed when he was thrown off that cliff. he was very sure he had a couple of bruised ribs which were, once again, not a problem to handle but he was also sure that one of those ribs happened to be broken. he wasn't sure which one yet, but given that if he could manage to pull himself together, he'd be able to discern what he could do by then. ryuusaki huffs as he pulls himself to stand. the action is forced and he's uncaring if his sides are screaming at him to return to a relaxed position, to not walk, but he has to. he is driven by the desire to live, a frantic desire that all held deep within themselves. although it hurts, he had to keep pressing on if there was any relative chance that he was going to survive this.
with shaking paws he steps forth and the first step is practically hell. he nearly crumples here but he pulls a strong face. i know it hurts but you have to... he feels faint here, but you have to live. just... i just have to. keeping unshed tears of pain from rolling over, ryuusaki continues along the edge of this beach, practically dragging himself as he went, until he trips across something in the sand. he lands face first in the wet sand and his body twists in agony at the jarring halt of his movements. he trains his focus on whatever it was that he tripped over and the white case with the trademark red cross atop is unmistakable. what a fucking convenient thing this was, huh? he doesn't care, he's found his first aid kit, he could do this now. "fifty percent." he mutters to himself as he pushes away the golden sand around the box and he opens it, peering into its contents. mostly... everything is there. before he'd been thrown over he had been out attempting to restock and so not everything he would usually have in there was there. it's fine... he only needs the alcohol, towelette, and bandages anyway.
removing the contents from his first-aid kit, ryuusaki gets straight to working on himself the best he could. he takes the alcohol and he rips off its top with sharp canine teeth, applying it to the towelette he had with him before pressing it to his forehead. the wound burns, it sears, but it means the alcohol is doing its job. he wraps the bandages tightly around the side of his head to keep it where it is before he moves on. he does the same process with the gash in his side though he carefully sets his broken rib in the process to where it could rest and start its long journey to healing. "sixty-five, no... seventy-two percent." the japanese kishu inu shifts again now, wrapping himself in bandages. this was.. all he could do for now. this was all he could do until he could find out exactly where the hell he was and then he'd go from there. he packs up his equipment and slides it onto his body before he gathers himself up and begins trudging in another direction.
with a few minutes of walking he sees something in the distance. it seems like... he was approaching some sort of strip of land? it leads into something humongous, something great, something breathtaking. ryuu's in awe as he stumbles forth, kicking up sand in his ungraceful descent. this place? this place couldn't be abandoned. it was too plentiful, too big, it had... it had to have people living here, somewhere. he just hoped he hadn't washed up on some island where the tribespeople were cannibals or some sick shit like that. oh, he could only hope. he's hesitant in calling out, and he has a seventy-two percent chance of actually surviving out here now, but he wants that percent higher. he wants to ensure his survival. it's a gamble, but its a risk he's willing to take and so he snatches it up. although his lungs groaned in protest, ryuusaki called out in the loudest voice possible, "hello out there!"
/ tl;dr: ryuusaki got washed up on one of the typhoon's outer beaches, patched himself up to some degree after stumbling across his formerly lost first-aid kit and somehow managed to carry himself around to the entrance of the place. now he's lying in the sand, still bleeding pretty badly, and he's called out for the attention of a passerby.
hello, this may be trash but i wanted to get this up ; w ;
eyelids heavy he awakes to the sound of water crashing into him, pushing him further into the strange land he had been washed onto. his hazy gaze lifts and he's barely able to focus on his surroundings but he can tell he was nowhere near home. the sun is too bright, blinding almost, and this causes for the kishu inu to groan in distaste. he feels pain searing across his body, white hot and relentless. it takes the breath out of his already strangled lungs and so ryuusaki turns to look at the damage his relatively frail body had been dealt. the injuries... were not the worse thing he's seen. as a doctor who had tended to criminals that got themselves involved with gory knife-fights all too often, he considered himself lucky that his innards were still in their respective places. he shakes the water and sand from his eyes, realizing with a start that... something was missing. his first-aid kit. hell. with his injuries the way they were, ryuusaki knew he would bleed out on this deserted island (or so he believed it to be deserted) if he didn't find some way to improvise. and so, he begins looking.
his injuries consisted of mostly cuts and bruises, small and insignificant. he wouldn't waste his time with those if he managed to find anything. he had two sizable gashes; one on his side and the other... in a less than fortunate place right between his eyes. he imagined he probably hit rock when he fell or at least the coral seabed when he was thrown off that cliff. he was very sure he had a couple of bruised ribs which were, once again, not a problem to handle but he was also sure that one of those ribs happened to be broken. he wasn't sure which one yet, but given that if he could manage to pull himself together, he'd be able to discern what he could do by then. ryuusaki huffs as he pulls himself to stand. the action is forced and he's uncaring if his sides are screaming at him to return to a relaxed position, to not walk, but he has to. he is driven by the desire to live, a frantic desire that all held deep within themselves. although it hurts, he had to keep pressing on if there was any relative chance that he was going to survive this.
with shaking paws he steps forth and the first step is practically hell. he nearly crumples here but he pulls a strong face. i know it hurts but you have to... he feels faint here, but you have to live. just... i just have to. keeping unshed tears of pain from rolling over, ryuusaki continues along the edge of this beach, practically dragging himself as he went, until he trips across something in the sand. he lands face first in the wet sand and his body twists in agony at the jarring halt of his movements. he trains his focus on whatever it was that he tripped over and the white case with the trademark red cross atop is unmistakable. what a fucking convenient thing this was, huh? he doesn't care, he's found his first aid kit, he could do this now. "fifty percent." he mutters to himself as he pushes away the golden sand around the box and he opens it, peering into its contents. mostly... everything is there. before he'd been thrown over he had been out attempting to restock and so not everything he would usually have in there was there. it's fine... he only needs the alcohol, towelette, and bandages anyway.
removing the contents from his first-aid kit, ryuusaki gets straight to working on himself the best he could. he takes the alcohol and he rips off its top with sharp canine teeth, applying it to the towelette he had with him before pressing it to his forehead. the wound burns, it sears, but it means the alcohol is doing its job. he wraps the bandages tightly around the side of his head to keep it where it is before he moves on. he does the same process with the gash in his side though he carefully sets his broken rib in the process to where it could rest and start its long journey to healing. "sixty-five, no... seventy-two percent." the japanese kishu inu shifts again now, wrapping himself in bandages. this was.. all he could do for now. this was all he could do until he could find out exactly where the hell he was and then he'd go from there. he packs up his equipment and slides it onto his body before he gathers himself up and begins trudging in another direction.
with a few minutes of walking he sees something in the distance. it seems like... he was approaching some sort of strip of land? it leads into something humongous, something great, something breathtaking. ryuu's in awe as he stumbles forth, kicking up sand in his ungraceful descent. this place? this place couldn't be abandoned. it was too plentiful, too big, it had... it had to have people living here, somewhere. he just hoped he hadn't washed up on some island where the tribespeople were cannibals or some sick shit like that. oh, he could only hope. he's hesitant in calling out, and he has a seventy-two percent chance of actually surviving out here now, but he wants that percent higher. he wants to ensure his survival. it's a gamble, but its a risk he's willing to take and so he snatches it up. although his lungs groaned in protest, ryuusaki called out in the loudest voice possible, "hello out there!"
/ tl;dr: ryuusaki got washed up on one of the typhoon's outer beaches, patched himself up to some degree after stumbling across his formerly lost first-aid kit and somehow managed to carry himself around to the entrance of the place. now he's lying in the sand, still bleeding pretty badly, and he's called out for the attention of a passerby.
hello, this may be trash but i wanted to get this up ; w ;
