#tinglybaals

@tinglybaals

There was a man with a bullet in his chest gasping for breath in the middle of a seemingly deserted street. Naturally, the young doctor was more than a little confused as to how this circumstance had arisen...but as she stumbled upon the scene, her mind was first and foremost focused on saving the poor guy’s life. 

It would have taken a good ten minutes for an ambulance to have arrived, and it didn’t look as those this man had that much time life. Glancing quickly around, she hovered her palm against the bullet wound and her face crinkled in concentration; a moment later, and the bloodstained metal bullet lifted out of his body, almost as though her hand was a magnet. Now came the difficult bit - his injury was severe indeed, and it would take a lot of Kiara’s energy to heal him sufficiently to ensure he would still be alive when he got to the hospital. 

The task required such concentration that she closed her eyes and focused on taking deep, even breaths; she would need as much strength as possible to save him. It took several long, silent minutes until she was satisfied with the extent of the healing - she had managed to close the vast majority of the wound. With a light sigh of relief, she open her eyes and lowered her slightly shaky hand from the man’s chest. 

               STARING IS a problem valencia has, a problem that goes unnoticed by her. golden orbs examine the suited man before her, questions swirling in her head. she’s observed strange behaviour from humans---wearing suits that cover everything is one of them.

         ❛ and people question MY fashion choices . . . ❜ 

This New York City was strange - with its tall, grey-and-brick buildings that raked up into the heavens and stretched out as far as the eye could see. A seemingly endless stream of men passed by in whatever bizarre fashion trends had recently swept the nation, accompanied by small tinted creatures, who probably rang like expensive glass when they were touched but who conveyed an impression of being as sharp and tough as tin, bearing newspapers and speaking into metal oblongs. They looked at nobody, sweeping by in great, wheeled contraptions that dominated the road were horses and carts had once roamed -  and they were the brightest shade of yellow that he'd seen with the exception of a sunset, perhaps - and they congested the stiflingly narrow streets like nobody's business.