Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-27226023-20150807001143/@comment-27235572-20150823135859

Lalka had been moving over to try and see if she could help the unconscious boy. While she wasn't sure if she had any clean bandages (almost all of them were drenched by either grease or sweat), but Lalka was about 99.2 percent certain that she had at least one.

Unconcerned by the fact that blood was still seeping from his wound, she rummaged around for a bandage, finding some rubbing alcohol (YES!) and a clean bandage. Sitting down to try and clean the wounds and bandage them, she was startled when he sprang up  tackling a girl who had also been hurt. "Damn it, can I be a heroine for once or not?" She mumbled to herself.

Huffing, Lalka rushed over back to Petra, who was just standing there, watching the scene. "What are you doing?" She was furious. "Aren't you going to help?" Lalka glared at the statue. ".... Why would I do that?" Petra slowly asked, stone eyebrow raised with something akin to contempt. A disgusted grunt was her only reply.

Silently, Lalka pulled out a bomb and spun it around. The sound of water sloshing inside was slight, but still evident. "I'm going to try and flush this witch out." Lalka growled. "Help the others like the girl bleeding in the grass, ok?" She tossed Petra the alcohol and the bandages. "And, by the gods, do not screw this up!" She rushed off, clearly irritated.

"Excuse me." A demonic voice sounded behind. The statue slowly turned around. "... Yes...?" "Give me that: I'll attend to my own sister." Shirley snapped, snatching the alcohol. Petra shrugged before kneeling, watching for the demon to clean the wounds so that she could wrap them.

((Or... What I produce when I'm undergoing torture via braiding my hair <.<))