Eat yer heart out.

flushedsuit started following you

While the other two are busy, Boxcars with the bath and Droog with being a dick, Slick leans back onto the couch, groaning and rubbing at his side. The bruises alone wouldn’t be so bad, but combined with the stiffness and the cold that seems to permeate straight to his bones, it’s no pleasant feeling, and makes most movements a bitch.

That’s certainly one way to ensure that the spell of relative silence was going to last a little longer than it needed to. Droog narrows his eyes, then looks to Boxcars. He knows that Spades wants him to talk to him, but he also knows that Spades is a complete asshole, and it isn’t time to do so yet. There’s many other barriers that lie between Spades and his voice.

As much as he knew Droog could carry Slick on his own, he figured helping would be better than just standing by and watching them. He was expecting Slick to squirm like he tended to when being carried, so another hand on him might help. Careful of his arm and wounds, he put his arm similarly around Slick, helping where he could to lead him to the bathroom.

Slick reacts to Droog’s and Boxcars‘s subjections with minimal complaint- which is to say, cursing and squirming away from Droog’s touch and demanding that Boxcars hurry up before he bleeds to death. It really is something, how he can manage all of that at the same time. But at least he’s being somewhat cooperative tonight.

It takes a few minutes, but once the bath is filled up and there’s a towel ready to go, he left the bathroom and heads back to Spades. He raised a brow at their boss, eyeing the gauze on his neck. It didn’t seem to have bled through too much just yet, which was a good sign, but maybe that’s just because Spades insisted on keeping his hand in the way so he couldn’t see properly.

His stubborn glare moves from Droog to Boxcars. Slick considers not moving his hand, fighting. But honestly, he can’t see any point to that. However pissed he might be, he’s had a good portion of the defiance beaten out of him for the time being. And he just wants to get this over with.

He nods. Ice. He had more experience with heat than ice but the general idea is still the same. Get the wound back to the usual temperature, check for any unviable tissue, etcetera. Diamonds turns back to his tools, picking up one of the spreaders and going up to Spades. He can see where the wounds are, but obviously needs to check. He sits down next to his boss and pushes on the man’s side, forcing him to bend a bit to the left so that Droog can inspect the tissue. 

The wound certainly did not seem to want to stop bleeding any time soon, which was frustrating. Boxcars frowned. Still, he couldn’t just let him bleed all over the couch, and himself, and the both of them. Something had to be done about it. He pressed a piece of cotton onto the bite mark and wrapped his neck in gauze. It would have to do for now, he supposed. Not much, but. Oh well.

Slick rolls his eyes, tensing slightly. Looks like Droog’s pissed. No surprise there. Ha takes his hand from his neck briefly, examines it -the blood on it- and then puts it back to his neck. Odd that the wound hasn’t stopped bleeding yet.

Diamonds looks him over for a moment before unbuttoning his shirt and letting it fall open. Cracked shell, but what was more noticable was the shortness of breath. Spades didn’t seem out of breath, though. Must be pain coming from between the plating, Spades must not want to irritate it. What had the Demoness done?

Boxcars watched while Droog looked him over, noting the wounds for himself as well. He certainly didn’t know much about this Demoness besides what Droog has said just a few minutes ago, but if this was the kind of damage she was capable of inflicting when she was holding back, he was almost afraid to know what she’d be like otherwise. Spades should be counting himself lucky, though he almost doubted he was.

Droog brings out his cloth roll of instruments, and enough local anesthetic to make Slick some kind of comfortable. He says nothing, setting the roll on the table and flicking it open, the roll laying flat and instruments gleaming.

“Figured you would. Hope it was a good one at least, cause she definitely won.” He raised a brow, wearing an amused smile at Spades’ pride in his accomplishment. “Sure you can.”

Slick gives another shrug, grimacing. “Who’s got the time to wait for a big lug like you to show up? Had to get in a fight sometime.“

He stumbles forward a step, a grin slowly moving cross his face. He shrugs in what he figures is a casual manner. It’s been a while since he’s seen the bigger carapace, and it’s almost refreshing to hear the man threaten him. “Ah, well, what can I say, Boxcars. Someone else got to me first.” His grin changes so it’s more a smirk. “And you know you shoulda been faster than that if you wanted to fight me so bad.”

“Here I thought you were gonna wait for me.”  He crossed his arms over his chest, looking Slick up and down. Yep, looked like shit, unsurprisingly. “Well, I would say that I expect you to know better than to make powerful trolls pissed at you, but I actually expect you to do exactly that. So, this.” he motioned to Slick vaguely. Yeah, this is what he’d come to expect from him by now.