The Forgotten Zodiac

Tyler shrugged. "The meanie guy from before is back. Michael's got it. Now shhh. I'm watching Zaboomafoo."

"Yes, I think you should explain. I'm just waiting for you to actually do it."

"Meanie guy?" Quinn said nervously, looking at Sylas, who was covering his nose.

"Animal is bleeding." Sylas mumbled, not liking the smell one bit. Quinn was just downright confused at this point, so she sat back down, but made sure to keep an eye on Michael and the door out of the corner of her eye. But of course, she coudln't hear anything, the TV was drowning it out.

"J-James, the boy I was with, he...we were tracking a girl for the institute, and we found her, and she was alive but being eaten by an Iyoui..." Werr stifled a coughing fit, feeling more exhausted by the second. "So I saved her but James convinced the Iyoui to side with him and...the Iyoui did this," He pointed at his wound. "And...ate the girl. I just barely managed to escape, and I...I need help..."

Tyler nodded. "Yeah, the meanie guy from before who messed up Sylas' house. It's okay. Michael's gunna shoot him." He pulled himself back into Sylas' lap, held his hands up, and placed them over Sylas' mouth.

"It does look like Iyouis handiwork. Fine." Michael aimed the gun at Werr's good shoulder and fired, effectively stopping Werr's use of his arms. "You can come in now."

Sylas had to release his nose, much to his displeasure. "What? Shoot him?" Quinn stood suddenly, a heartbeat before the gun went off.

Werr sank to his knees with a groan, his previously good hand going limp. He shakily stood, though, walking in unsteadily, stifling yet another coughing fit, but was unable to keep a bit of blood from creeping out of the corner of his mouth as he sat down at the table, Quinn staring at him in shock.

((Sylas smells like snakes, remember? At least, that's what you said earlier.))

Michael walked in after Werr. "Quinn, can you patch him up some? Please? He has no good arms, so he shouldn't be good at hurting people."

Tyler looked at Werr, eyeing his terrible condition, then turned back to Zaboomafoo. "Go cough somewhere else. I'm trying to hear."

((He's stupid and doesn't think about how he smells. He just knows that it smells bad.))

"I...I guess..." Quinn blinked, going to the kitchen and turning on the water, wrapping it around her hands before walking back, putting the water on Werr's shoulders, then going to find some rags. She quickly applied pressure with the rags, not too sure what else she could do.

Werr just closed his eyes, murmuring something along the lines of 'thank you', his breathing slow and quietly ragged.

((Just saying. Sometimes I forget things about my characters.))

Michael paused. "You'll probably need to talk her through this. She wouldn't know this herself, she's a sheltered little girl."

((I actually forgot too, but I make up random reasons as to how it makes sense. xD))

Werr groaned, opening his eyes again, pulling himself out of near unconsciousness. "Good point." He sighed. "First off...go f-find a sowing kit...and some bandages. The wound i-is clear through, the...the bleeding won't stop until it's sown shut. If you can't...find bandages, w-which you probably...won't, look for d-duct tape and g-gauze. No gauze, find a...wh-white, clean t-shirt."

Quinn blinked at the instructions and nodded, moving off to go find what was needed.

((HA. I wins.))

Michael put one elbow on the table and rested his hand in it. "So. First of all, what's your name? Second of all, why white? Why not brown, or orange?"

"Werr." He answered. "Werr Grehi. White, because it's easy to tell if it's clean or not." Werr sighed, leaning back in his chair, still wanting very much to pass out. "My turn to ask questions. Was it really necessary to shoot me? Really?"

Michael raised an eyebrow. "Is it ever your turn to ask questions? You're the one who wants to be here, and you're only here because I'm allowing it. Also, I shot you so that you'll have more trouble hurting anyone, and yes, I felt it was necessary."

Werr just blinked at Michael, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "Right, so if I did something you didn't want me to do, would you kill me? I would normally say that you wouldn't have the guts to do it, but the red stain creeping from underneath the bathroom door tells me perhaps this isn't quite the case. Or maybe that wasn't you, in which case we could always just turn to the fact that you've already shot me once. Not that I have any intentions of hurting anyone. Not that I expected you to believe me in the first place...instinct tends to break rules sometimes, I suppose..." He realized he was rambling (and running short on breath) and shut himself up.

Michael shrugged. "I try to avoid killing people, but if your life threatens that of the others here, then yes, I would kill you." Michael glanced at the stain, then turned back to Werr. "Nope, that wasn't me. You'll just have to go by your shoulder."

"Alright then. It's not like I was intending to do anything anyways. I don't fancy working for the Institute, you should know. James will likely call giving his report, and when they ask why I'm not the one calling, he'll tell them that I died tragically in a freak accident. Or he'll tell them I went AWOL. It's not likely he'll tell the truth, though, that would just be...insane. Then again, he seems pretty insane..." Werr was mostly talking to himself at this point. He sighed, stretching his legs stiffly under the table. "Just allow me a day's rest or so, I'll leave and you won't see me again. I'm breaking over thirty rules just being here..." Werr sighed, closing his eyes again, though careful not to let himself start dozing off.

"No, he'll tell them you betrayed him and sided with Emily, when you both attacked him, and he barely managed to fight you two off. That'll be his excuse for not checking in in forever. After that he'll wander around killing people until he needs a new list, then he'll go get the list, and start all over again."

"You make it sound like you know him." Werr frowned a bit, before Quinn finally returned with her ams full. She quickly started setting things on the table; a small roll of thread and a needle, scissors, a clean t-shirt, duct tape, and what looked like a pair of needlenose pliers. Werr looked at the stuff, realizing Quinn had gotten the pliers to get the bullet out of his shoulder.

Smart girl. "Alright, good enough. Stitch the hole up first, then we'll worry about the bullet," Werr said, moving his unsteady hand and wincing with every inch of it, pulling a small lighter out of his pocket and dropping it on the floor. "There, use that to sterilize the needle, if you will." Quinn nodded and did as she was told, though not quite sure why SHE was doing this.

"Can't you just pull it out with your power? Or Quinn could use water to reach in and grab it." He shrugged. "I'm pretty sure we shouldn't just leave it in there."

"I control rocks, not metals. There are too few earth particles in a bullet for me to pull it out. Quinn's water might work, but it's lodged in bone. While the water would be gentler, I doubt it'd be able to get the bullet out as well as the pliers." Werr answered. "And no, it won't be left in there."

Michael shrugged. "Fine then. I'll use pliers." He stood up and walked to the kitchen, pulling open several doors before finding an acceptable pair of pliers. Once he had the pliers, he headed back to Werr, before reaching into Werr's should with them and digging for the bullet.