Log Date: 3/21/98, 3/23/98 Log Cast: Nelun Good, "Kiriel Andurin" (Shenneret Veery) Log Intro: [OOC Note: These logs are actually Shenner's second encounter with Nelun; the first set of logs remains lost due to the murkworks.net crash from March 1998. Events from that encounter are summarized here.] The young musician Shenneret Veery has been on Calamari for several weeks, having dyed her hair dark, and taken on the name "Kiriel Andurin" in an attempt to create a 'respectable' background for herself and get into a school that will take her. Shen hasn't managed to admit to herself, however, that she has a much more emotional, personal reason for trying to hide from her own identity... her despondence at her abandonment -- nobly intended though his goodbye- letter made it seem to her -- by Paul Nighman, and the nightmares with which she's begun to be plagued, nightmares serious enough to keep her from getting more than three or four scant hours of sleep a night, though she can never remember them upon her awakening. Aware that she's losing her grip on her mental stability, Shenner is nevertheless desperate to try to keep anyone who can relay news back to Paul from finding out where she is. This, to Shen, means avoiding contact with NR personnel who know her, for all of them also know Paul. So the lass has thrown herself headlong into her "Kiriel" persona, studying at a frantic pace, receiving what tutelage she can from the young Corellian Trace who has taken her under his wing, prowling the city and occasionally busking for coins... and most of all, trying to sleep with peace. She's had one unusual encounter, however, with someone who seems worse off than she, and which has lingered in her memory badly. That encounter was with a ragged wanderer who called himself Nelun, and who seemed to have lost his memory. Moved more than she'd like to admit by the man's plight, Shen attempted to take _him_ under _her_ wing, and buy him a meal at the Rusty Urchin restaurant... only to watch the man suffer a fit of fear in the midst of an inadvertantly caused disturbance, alarm the patrons, and get them both summarily thrown out. Nelun proceeded to scream at Shen in the street, hostilely and adamantly insisting that she leave him alone. Before Shen could catch him, he scurried off through the streets. And Shen, disturbed and then disgusted that her attempt at generosity had such unpleasant results, wrote the apparent lunatic off... but she's been unaware that the man has, since then, been keeping tabs on her.... ---------- Calamari Coral City - Coral City Square This vast square, the ground paved with the same pearly white sea rock as the avenue, is deeply cherished by the citizens of Coral City. The plaza slopes downward toward an imposing fountain where the likeness of a Mon Calamari looking upward toward the ocean blue sky and that of a Quarren, its eyes cast down toward the depths of the fountain, have been etched in stone, the salty water streaming like salty tears down their silent faces. Erected to honor the symbiotic relationship that these two races have shared, it is a relic of a once peaceful past when the ocean of space was but a distant dream. Many citizens come here to reminisce, or to rest awhile before continuing on their way. Large crowds gather as a constant flow of people arrive from the west where the city's Commercial District is to be found, or from the Market District to the east. What appear to be the wealthier citizens of Coral City continue on their way southward onto Coral Avenue. Others, not so wealthy, make their way on the northbound stretch of the avenue. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Nelun_Good => Coral City Information Booth -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- - leads to Calamari Coral City -- Market District. - leads to Calamari Coral City -- South Coral Avenue. - leads to Calamari Coral City -- North Coral Avenue. Nelun_Good is standing in the complete open, quite noticeable. He is staring at you, somewhat hunched, and obviously nervous. Kiriel, thinner and tireder and cranky of eye, a carisak slung over her shoulder, comes stalking into the square. Making her way down the walkway, she very nearly collides with the figure who stands there watching her, and she doesn't quite register who she's about to pass; evidently, her thoughts are elsewhere. "Outta my way," she grumbles lowly, moving to go by. Nelun_Good This relatively short, but lean, Human male is dressed in rather thrown together clothes. Other than having noticeably grimy fingernails, mussed hair, and being rather scruffy-looking, he is also noticeably withdrawn. Worn atop a dark grey shirt is a bulky, weathered brown-orange tri-button flight jacket. A pair of crinkled black pants house overstuffed left pocket which lures for easy pickpocketing, but repulses with gross filth. Despite his dirty - assumingly pungent - clothing, there is a pleasing earthy, peaty smell. Stumbling back a little, Nelun gives a complete look of astonishment, before settling into a face complete with dismay. He's expected this. Nelun_Good looks at you for a moment. Kiriel turns to go about her business, one pale hand gripping her carisak's strap -- for a beat or two. Then she whirls where she stands, green eyes narrowing, and she suddenly pronounces, "_You_." Nelun_Good contains his startlement. His arms flail about for a few moments, trying to find someplace to put them before, finally, they settle across his chest. There is a moment of uncomfortable silence, before he responds--releasing a considerable stench from his mouth in the process, "Hello.." The girl in black stares suspiciously at the bedraggled man -- recognizing him, with a small shock that cuts through a day's worth of intensive studying, but which doesn't do much to help the headache throbbing behind her eyes. Kiriel looks Nelun up and down, and then says coolly, "So. Didn't know you were still around." Nelun_Good blinking hard in a sudden gust of wind, Nelun wipes his eyes, effectively moving the dirt from one part of his body to another. He coughs, and mumbles something quickly and incoherently. Frozen, caught trying to make up for past regrets, Nelun is embarassed at the least. He continues louder, saying familiar words, "I...need your help." The young musician considers this, not moving, not yet, but not stepping towards the vagabond before her, either. "I was gonna give you help before, but you ran off on me," she points out, her features still set, hard. But she's still listening. Nelun_Good looks down, biting his lip to trap the next words to say. It is an effort to consider what every action he does might spark new consequences, or new memories. Flashbacks. He looks up with sincerely, and the white in his eyes are highlighted from his veritable makeup of dirt. "I'm very sorry about that...it was, just, unexplainable...I have these attacks. These constant memories, sudden memories." Suddenly he looks up at the sky, "..What's the word?" Kiriel frowns at this; the frown tighten a moment on the mention of memories, and for the briefest of instants, her features go harder. But just as quickly, they relax, just a bit. She doesn't answer the question immediately, but asks instead, "What do you want from me?" Almost suddenly, instinctively, the man says aloud, "Food! Or just money... Anything you can do will probably...--you're the only person I can trust Kiriel..." Slightly unnerved by that last, the dark-haired girl once more rocks a bit back on her heels, then waves a hand grumpily. "Alright, alright, c'mon." Kiriel turns to continue on down the walkway, then glances over her shoulder and waves again. "So c'mon already." Surprised, followed by relief and joy cross Nelun's facial features in instances. He quickly follows suit. Kiriel doesn't look at the vagabond past verifying that he is, indeed, following her; instead, still clutching the strap of her carisak, she aims herself off towards the market district, traversing the square in long, loping strides. "I was gettin' dinner anyway. But it ain't gonna be much, I can't spare too many credits for food right now." You head east toward the Market District. Calamari Coral City -- Market District An overwhelming crowd, a varied sea of faces, bustles about in the city's busy market district. From every direction vendors call out to you in an attempt to lure you to their booths typically made from smoothed sea rock fitted with a canvas covering which shields the produce from the warm rays of the sun. These booths overflow with exotic and colorful fruits, vegetables and plenty of other foodstuffs that by just looking at them makes your mouth water. Small shops line the streets, the gleaming windows showcases for displaying fabrics, tools, jewelry, fresh meats, fish, crustaceans and other provisions fished daily from the rich blue-green seas of Calamari. Those around you attend to their business, moving from stand to stand, bargaining and occasionally bartering with the vendors. A large sign to the south that reads 'Briny Deep Tap House' catches your interest as the door to the establishment opens revealing a poorly lit tunnel from which emerges a happy faced Mon Calamari. To the west the street meets with the city's central square from where there is a constant movement of people arriving and leaving the market district. -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- Transport Bay leads to Calamari Coral City -- Transport Bay. Briny Deep Tap House leads to Briny Deep Tap House. Coral City Square leads to Calamari Coral City - Coral City Square. Nelun_Good arrives from Coral City Square. Nelun_Good has arrived. Unobtrusive in her dark clothes at this time of the night, Kiriel aims herself on towards whatever destination she might have in mind, occasionally glancing up to make sure Nelun's keeping up with her. Keeping close, but still distant enough to give Kiriel her room, Nelun follows the young girl down the district, leaving a stenched trail in the process. The girl's nose crinkles, but she doesn't comment on the unwashed state of her companion -- at least not vocally. Where she finally leads him is a small outdoor eaterie, a pair of booths set up in a courtyard just off the main thoroughfare, seats and tables arranged under the night sky. "Here," she directs him brusquely, and then points with a single slender finger at the nearest unoccupied table, adding, "There. I'll get our food. Don't run off." A grin, whether from the prospect of a healthy meal or the girl's sarcasm, graces Nelun's mouth as he seats himself. He glances around the courtyard, and rests his eyes on the nightsky... Kiriel drops her carisak on another chair at the table, claiming it, and then stalks off to the short line by the open booth. Smells of cooking food waft out from within, and it doesn't take long for the girl to fork over a handful of credits and receive in exchange a tray. Her chosen repast seems simple enough, a couple of bowls of hot stew, and two glasses of something to drink with them. Returning to the table, she sits the food down and announces shortly, "There you go. One for you and one for me." With that, she shoves her carisak off to the cobblestones under the table, and sits down as well. Nelun looks at the tray in front of him, and then at Kiriel's. He breaks off from her tray, nodding to the girl with a hard blink. "Thank you..." He says. "Yeah, well." She hunkers down over her own bowl, gulps down a few spoonfuls of the hot stuff within, then finally looks again at the man before her. "You're welcome. Go on, eat, from the look of ya you need it." And she waves a hand at the other bowl. He digs in, literally. Within minutes the entire tray's contents are devoured sloppily. In all his lack of table manners, however, Nelun reaches over to grab the tablecloth as a napkin. "I...I really can't believe you'd give me all this...after I left...like that. But--" he pauses, napkin on mouth, "I'm over all that now. I'm fine..." _You don't look it,_ thinks Kiriel, but she doesn't say so. She takes rather less time to go through her stew and the sweet, cold drink in the glass beside it, though she does reach to steady her bowl lest tugging at the tablecloth get it out of her reach. What she does say, though, is, "Well, lucky for you I know what it feels like to be cold and hungry." Her tone is just a trifle less brusque, though her expression remains coolly composed. "So you're fine now, huh?" Nelun finishes with the dish in front of him, revealing a completely cleaned plate and a mess over his shirt. "I no longer have any attacks." He says, rather bluntly. Kiriel leans forward, playing with the spoon in her stew, twiddling it back and forth between her slender fingers. Green eyes rest on her filthy companion, measuringly, and then she says equally bluntly, "That's good. So, you, ah, remember stuff yet?" Nelun changes his glance to face directly to the girl, eyes wide and brows up. He rests his palms on his lap, saying nothing. The tablecloth slips off his fingers to return, albiet in a somewhat crinkly dishelved state, to a drape. Kiriel stops a moment, considering that reaction, uncertainty flickering across her face. Then her dark brows draw together and she says lowly, "That'd be a 'no', huh?" "No." He says quickly, but then retracts, tugging on the edge of the tablecloth again, "I mean...well, yes. It's..." He pauses, choosing his words carefully, "Vague. And when I do remember...it happens with an attack." This, too, Kiriel considers, the spoon forgotten now, lying propped between her fingers. Then she lets it fall with a soft clatter against the side of the bowl and shoves a hand back through her dark hair, muttering, "Ah, hells... none o' my karkin' business..." But the hand comes down again, and she leans forward slightly onto her elbow on the table, studying the man before her. "Look, pal... I ask, 'cause, well, like I said, I know what it's like to be cold and dirty and hungry. You... talk like an educated man. You shouldn't be... out here." She waves a hand around, indicating, perhaps, 'Outside', or 'on the streets'. Nelun looks around the Market District, pausing occassionally on a sign or eccentric foodstand. His forehead points in a mournful frown. Muttering under his breath, the man says, as if in quiet frustration, "Educated..."His hand springs to his forehead, grasping the temples. His head shakes left and right, while loudly he suddenly begins speaking, "Oh no..no, no, no. Not now--not here!" "Nelun?" Kiriel sits up, frowning, her eyes going dark with concern. "Hey... Nelun?" "Attacks." Nelun's hands stumble across the table, still gripping the cloth. He collapses to his side, bringing everything on the table with him. "Shit...!" Kiriel surges to her feet and then crouches down by the fallen man, fighting down a wave of slight nausea at his general... fragrance. A wince crosses her slender pale face, then she steels herself, reaching for a shoulder. "Nelun... hey, hey, pal, talk to me! You alright?!" The commotion turns several heads in the area, including the big burly fellow dishing out the food in the booth at the back of the courtyard. Nelun's body rolls across the ground into a fetal position, pulling the table cloth over him in a tangled mess. He screams aloud, completely frightened, "No! Stop! Stop!" _Oh karkin' hells.._ "No more attacks, huh?" Kiriel mutters under her breath. She flashes a look over each shoulder, peripherally aware of the few other customers giving the screaming man very odd looks, and then beginning to edge out of their seats and off down the street. _Never mind that!_ She leans in, trying to scoop Nelun up into her arms, urging, "Nelun. Hey, it's me! Nelun!" "No! No!" Terrified, Nelun strikes out with his fists, tearing the tablecloth apart. "I won't tell you *anything!*" He breaks free of Kiriel, stumbling across into the street. The girl is thrust back, and stares in shock as the man she's just fed staggers off down the street. She moves to run after him, but is halted abruptly -- the cook from the booth has emerged from his small domain, and has lumbered over to drop a meaty hand on the girl's shoulder. "You owe me for that," he rumbles, nodding his big head down towards the mess Nelun's left on the cobblestones, spilled stew, a broken glass, a chipped bowl. And the girl whirls, fists of her own coming up in reaction before she catches herself. Her cheeks flame, and she mutters, "Right... yeah, pal, whatever..." She thrusts a hand into her pockets and hauls out a handful of crumpled small bills, adding annoyedly, "That cover it?" Kiriel flashes a look after Nelun, indecision warring -- chase him, or forget him? The cook rumbles out an affirmative, freeing her to go; the girl then grabs her carisak, sling it over her shoulder, and pelts off after the fleeing vagabond, certain he's about to get run over or something. "Nelun! Kark it, Nelun, come back!" Nelun continues to tear through the streets like a sheeted ghost(with splotches of half-eaten food on it's body). Several hovercars veer to a halt, creating a chain reaction of chaotic events; foodstand owners flee as their businesses are destroyed by swerving cars, unflexible droids beep and try to move out of the way of a surprised crowd, too packed into the narrow aisles of the market street to move anywhere but into each other. _Karkin' crazy idiot...!_ Trying not to think about the issue of who's crazier -- Nelun, or herself for chasing him -- Kiriel keeps up, dodging startled droids with ease and startled passersby with somewhat less luck, depending on the other sentients' own swiftness. As she runs, someone hollers out, "Somebody stop that man!", and the girl uh-ohs to herself again, suddenly remembering what had happened in a restaurant the last time she'd encountered the vagabond, and fearing what'll happen if someone else intercepts him first. Nelun disappears around the east of the district, moving surprisingly fast for a man drenched in a tablecloth. His head is shielded by his arms as he moves in a contorted zigzag away from the crowd. "Dammit," the girl who calls herself Kiriel mutters, finally forced to stop a moment, to try to catch her breath, as a stitch forms in her side. The carisak, too, is bumping uncomfortably against her back, the weight of the books within slamming against her with every step she runs. She slings the thing's strap over across her head to the opposite shoulder so she doesn't have to hang onto it with one hand, and then, panting, scans the area. Where the _kark_ did he go? Nelun_Good heads towards the stone and transparisteel structure that shelters the intercity transport. Nelun_Good has left. You head towards the stone and transparisteel transport bay. Calamari Coral City -- Transport Bay This stone and transparisteel structure shelters a number of atmospheric and submersible transports that connect Coral City with cities on other islands, under the sea and upon the ocean surface. Every few minutes a teardrop shaped transport lifts from its pad, taxis out of the hangar bay and speeds off towards the horizon where sky and water meet. Arriving transports can be seen emerging from the ocean depths, and slowly lifting upwards towards recently emptied berths as water pours off of their grey and green hulls. Nearby islands and floating cities dot the watery surface, while kilometers below, the Quarren care for the many gifts that the ocean grants. At night these places become distant lights that reflect the distant lights in the void. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Nelun_Good => Rukbar => Transport Request Computer -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- leads to Calamari Coral City -- Market District. Kark it -- lost him. Moving at a slower pace now, Kiriel edges into the transport bay, green eyes shifting slowly back and forth as she scrutinizes the area. _Why the -kark- am I doin' this?! I gotta get home and study..._ But the thought dies half-birthed in the back of her mind, and despite her internal growling, she keeps looking for the man who's fled, not sure what's driving her save that she knows someone suited to the streets when she sees him -- and this man called Nelun doesn't qualify. In the middle of the empty bay, kneels the bedraggled man. The tablecloth sprawls shredded a few meters away, showing the tears and shreddings across the flat landing concrete. Blood spots are sprinkled across it's entirety. Kiriel's green gaze locks on the one she's seeking, and she frowns deeply as she takes in the sight before her. She pauses... then begins to inch closer, calling out softly, "Nelun. Yo, pal. It's me, Kiriel." Nelun whimpers, realizing but not acknowledging Kiriel. He leans forward to fall on all fours, and his heavy breathing is more noticeable in the up and down motions of his back. "I'm--I'm sorry..." The black-clad girl blows out a breath, dropping down to her knees by Nelun, reaching for his shoulders. "Shush," she orders him, her earlier brusque tones turning gentler. "You okay? C'mon, sit up..." Nelun suddenly pulls the corners of his orange coat, taking it off violent and tossing it onto the ground. He continues panting, overspent. Whoa. The girl rears back a little at the unexpected motion, her hands flying up as the coat is tugged off, but she doesn't back off or rise. "Nelun," she repeats. "C'mon, pal, talk to me." She risks, then, leaning in once more and trying to help him sit up. "I...can't. I might...loose control again..." Nelun looks up at the bay, hearing it echo his breathing. "Okay, fine, _don't_ talk," Kiriel answers promptly, casting a sidelong glance at the nearby crumpled -- and red-streaked -- tablecloth. "Just let me see if you're okay... okay? Look at me." Her tone's still gruff, but insistent, and her hands remain on the man's shoulders. He pushes her away. "No! Don't touch me! My blood!" Running away from Kiriel on all fours, Nelun trips and sprawls to his side. A gash wound in the front of his right leg is seen, bleeding considerable amounts of blood. His mutters are loudened by the bay's sound-reflective interior, "I can't heal...I can't heal..." "Ah, _hells_... Nelun, come back here, you're _hurt_..." Kiriel rises and strides after him, catching up with ease this time, undaunted. But her face has grown less brusque as she goes on, "I ain't leavin' ya. Gotta get you to a hospital." Nelun's eyes explode widely, "No, no more hospitals!" His traumatic recount is quickly superseded by the pain of the gash. "I just need a medpack. Or a box of sodium chloride..." "Okay... okay... no hospital..." Kiriel kneels down by Nelun again, and spreads her hands, placatingly. "Look. I know a bit o' first aid -- and I _got_ a medpack, but it's at home, see? But we gotta _deal_ with this, you're bleedin' all over the place, okay?" More of the girl's brusqueness leaves her voice, leaving it sounding rather younger, rather anxious. "There. Get the tablecloth." He says, waving a pointing a hand towards the center of the bay. "Right." The girl moves, thinking she knows what he's asking -- bandages. She drops her carisak off her shoulder for the time being, but also fishes into a pocket, looking for the simple multitool she's been carrying around with her for a while. Returning with cloth and tool both out, she starts slicing off some strips, saying almost conversationally, "I, ah, learned a bit about this a while back." "A while back..." Nelun says, almost deliriously. He stares up at the bay, continuing to press an uneffective hand on his leg. "That's good. That's very good...They...still... teach you this in school, eh? ..." He winces, curling the leg up to his chest. "Not exactly," Kiriel replies, smirking. Once she's gotten some strips cut off the tablecloth, she moves to start binding the bleeding leg, gently nudging Nelun's own hand out of the way as she goes. She's at least got a good idea of how to tie on makeshift bandages with a reasonable pressure. And she goes on roughly, "Never gone to school. Picked it up from somebody I knew." Bringing his bloodied hands out of the way, Nelun stares up at the bay ceiling, trying not to look at whatever horrible condition his leg is suffering. He continues speaking, quickly, loudly, and scared, "Oh...ow...who?" The girl's face goes oddly still for a moment, though her hands do not as she finishes tying off the impromptu bandages and considers her work. All she says in reply is, "Just... someone I knew. So. Think you can get up? We should see if this'll hold." Nelun's head shakes, "I don't think I can do all that again...I--I was just so scared. I must've gotten hit by a car or ran into a knife or..." He pauses, swallowing and grabbing Kiriel's shoulder with his hand. "It hurts!" The girl sighs, trying not to think about the bloody ruin the wounded man is making of her black silken shirt. "I know, pal, I know," she murmurs huskily, sliding an arm around under his shoulders and reaching with her other hand for her carisak. "We gotta get you where you can rest, okay?" "I can rest right here..." He says, trying to continue staring at the ceiling. His winces purvey more attacks, this time, of a highly physical nature. "Eh. Ow...how bad is it?" Kiriel sighs, resigning herself, at least for a moment, to letting Nelun lean against her. She eyes his leg, notes hints of red starting to color the tablecloth strips wound round it, and reports crisply, "You _do_ need a medpack, and I don't have one here. Either you're gonna hafta get up and come with me, or else I'm gonna hafta leave you here while I go get it, pal." Nelun reaches out, pulling on the girl's shoulder again, leaning on her terrified, "No, don't leave me here. Not alone...Somebody might find me. They might--" Green eyes soften a little, painedly, at the plea. The girl wobbles a little at the force of the clutch to her shoulder, but holds steady where she's kneeling, and promises, "Okay... okay... I won't leave ya." Her voice has softened slightly, too. "But we gotta move you." "Okay...Okay..." The man continues to use Kiriel for support, he slips, falling on his elbows and gritting his teeth at the dull pain from the strike. He quickly puts it aside, finally turning from the vacant stares at the ceiling to the girl, "Okay. What...what do we do?" Trying to prop Nelun up as best as she can, Kiriel considers first the man, then the remains of the tablecloth, Nelun's discarded coat, and her bookbag, all nearby. "Here... sit still a moment... I'm gonna get our stuff, okay...?" She lifts a hand, flicking her fingertips at the scattered items around them. Nelun is too weak to continue keeping Kiriel from doing whatever she feels. And lets go, sprawling completely onto the bay floor. Wrapped about his leg, the tablecloth bandage seems to be redder. The girl flashes a worried look at the man as he keels over, and as quickly as possible, she grabs what's left of the tablecloth and stuffs it into her bag. This is shortly followed by Nelun's coat, though stuffing _that_ in there prevents her from fully closing the thing. She slings the strap over her far shoulder again, and hurries back to Nelun's side, lifting him cautiously up. "C'mon, Nelun," she murmurs at him. "You gotta get up now. Up." Nelun can only mumble his affirmations as Kiriel lifts him. Instinctively draping his left arm over her shoulders, he supports himself with a locked left knee. Trickles of blood run down the length of his right leg. It takes Kiriel a bit to balance the wounded man on her one side and the stuffed-full carisak on her other, but she manages to find an equilibrium, at least enough to stand upright. Moving -- that's another story. She sets off to cautiously traverse the empty bay, keeping as good a grip on her companion as she can, and murmuring at him, "Okay, Nelun... stay with me, pal. We're goin' to my place. You hear me?" Mumbling, Nelun manages to throw both arms over Kiriel, supporting himself slightly, "Mmm..your place...". His face is suddenly pallid, his eyelids droop to close, and a small drop of drool inches past the corner of his mouth. The tablecloth bandage is completely reddened at this time, with the exception of a small spot on the inside of his leg. Not liking the way the man's fading fast, Kiriel scowls to herself, torn between trying to hurry him along as quickly as possible and forcing him to collapse by pushing him _too_ swiftly. She settles for hobbling along with him, slowly and painfully, out of the bay and back into the market district. Nelun's right leg drags uselessly, covered in a coating of blood which, with every hobble, leaves a small river trail behind the two. "Mmm...where are we going?" he asks to Kiriel, lethargic. Out, then, into the streets. The girl sets her features into a stoic expression, aware of passersby _again_ staring at her oddly as she helps the injured man beside her stagger along. "My place," she repeats steadily to Nelun, as she leads him past some very startled-eyed food vendors. "Hey, miss, you two okay? You need help?" somebody calls. "No!" calls Kiriel in reply, without altering her course, turning her head, or altering her slow but determined pace. Back to Nelun, she adds, "Just a little farther. I live in this district. Piss-poor neighborhood, but hey, I'm a starving student, what can I say? You with me?" There is no reply from Nelun. The man has either completely lost consciousness at this moment, or is on the verge of it. The bandage suddenly slips off his leg, stopping at the ankle of his foot. _Hells...!_ Kiriel notes this, and pauses a moment, again torn -- stop and rebandage him or get him home? She frenetically opts for the latter, dragging him onward a few more blocks, his weight starting to tire her as she goes. Eventually she manages to veer with her companion off the main market thoroughfare and down a side residential street, towards apartment buildings. One in particular has a set of battered plascrete steps leading up to an equally battered front door, and it's towards that edifice that Kiriel hauls her charge, sweat beading her brow. Suddenly Nelun's hands open, flailing about and running into the girl's face. "Wha-what..." He looks around, gaining consciousness. The fallen bandage tangles about the outside of his boot, tripping him out of Kiriel's arms, onto the plascrete steps. "Whoa... Nelun, whoa..." The tiring girl staggers as she loses her grasp on her charge. But she quickly regains her balance, and says roughly, "Look, this is my building... look. Just up these steps, okay?" And she moves to try to haul Nelun back to his feet. Oblivious to Kiriel's words, much more the building, Nelun can't help but curl up within the steps. As a result, his wound opens up further, sparking a muffled cry through bit teeth. "Ah, _hells_..." Urgently bent, now, on getting this man somewhere where she can tend him, Kiriel hunkers down and hoists him bodily up, somehow managing to hang onto him despite his full weight threatening to topple her. Never mind the bloody ruin he's making of her black leggings, either. "I'm sorry," she breathes to him, certain this must hurt like seven kinds of hell, but this doesn't stop her from doing her damndest to get him up those steps and through that front door. _Karkin' good thing I don't live on the second floor..._ Shrieking, Nelun is brought straight into the building by Kiriel, despite her obvious lesser weight. He breaks free of her, hitting a wall full on and sliding to the floor. The shock throws him into unconsciousness. Kiriel curses, low and husky, in Basic -- and then in Corellian. Deciding it's a mercy if he's unconscious, she reaches over to punch in the entry code on the door -- never mind, either, the blood and grime now all over her hands -- and then to haul the man up and in as best she can. The door whishes open on a hallway only slightly less grimy than the girl in black and the blood-covered man; there's a stairway visible, and a couple of doors in the hall. It's towards the farther door that Kiriel staggers now, sweating and breathless. A second entry code is punched in... and a second door slides open on the small flat that Kiriel's claimed as her own. Nelun remains lying outside the building, against the wall across from the entry. The door lying between the two. The bandage is hung off his foot, soaking blood into a puddle underneath him. Swearing vigorously in a couple other languages -- she's only started dabbling in other tongues, but the curse words, _those_ she knows -- the girl punches the code in to keep both doors open, drops her carisak inside her own door, and then hastens back to the wounded man. Step by step, then. Drag him inside. Close the front door. Then drag him down the hall into her room. Close her door. How tough can it be, hmm? Tough enough that she's shaking and exhausted, about to fall over, though she determinedly orders herself not to. Nelun's body actually seems lighter this time. Perhaps it's the loss of blood. Or the fact that the girl is so fired to the point of speaking multicultural vulgarities that the man seems miniscule in comparision to her frustration. Inside, at last, doors shut safely behind them both. Kiriel stands there swaying a little once her door has closed after her and her charge. "You... *pant*... don't take pain well, do ya pal?" she breathes out at the unconscious man. Nelun remains aloofly unconscious. His pallor is becoming more and more deathly, although, the bleeding doesn't seem to be as worse. Whether it's due to the fact the wound has finally coagulated or has run out of blood is moot. One last effort, then -- get Nelun's crumpled form from her floor to the sofa. Kiriel grits her teeth and sets to it, dragging the man across worn carpet old enough that its original color is undiscernible. The sofa, not quite as old as the carpet -- or at least, a bit more discernible of color, being vaguely cream-colored -- squeaks as she half-drops, half-rolls her charge onto it. Kiriel then only allows herself a moment to catch her breath before getting down ot the next order of business -- doing something about that wound. Get the medikit; that's easy, she keeps it over the sink. Run some hot water into a bowl. Get the multitool, she's gonna need it. Sunken into the couch, Nelun regains his consciousness silently. Realizing that he's in a strange, unfamiliar place, the man panicks. Too ill to even begin moving, however, Nelun simply groans. Finally, Kiriel washes her hands and returns with trepidation to her charge's side, pausing as she sees his eyes flickering open. "Hey, pal," she greets him. "Lie still, I'm gonna fix you up, okay?" And she eyes his blood-encrusted leg, fighting off a blush, but moving nevertheless to take off his shoes. Groggy, Nelun closes his eyes, letting Kiriel pull his shoes off. Revealed are two battered feet, littered with callouses, blisters, the works, to top the blood that has dripped down to them and encrusted appropriately. The wound on his leg has not in fact stopped bleeding, and is actually noticeably infected. The girl's braced herself, but nevertheless, she swallows at what's revealed by the shoe removal. She pitches both shoes off towards the open door of her small 'fresher room, just off into a small alcove, while informing her charge, "Well, pal, looks like you're gonna hafta lose that pants leg. But frankly, you need new pants anyway." She sets to work cutting off the cloth with her multitool, and grimaces at the sight of the wound once she's got the cloth clear of the limb. "When the _hell_ did this happen? When I was chasing ya?" Not really expecting an answer, she leans over to the medikit on the floor and opens it up, then dips a cloth she's brought into the bowl of hot water and starts washing away blood and filth. Splashes of the water touche the gash, and Nelun visibly winces. He reaches out, grabbing the girl's hand and clenching his teeth. Shortly thereafter, he relaxes, freeing you and sinking back into the couch, "Ugh...god--that hurts..." Green eyes drop to the medikit lying open on the floor, now. Kiriel considers, then offers, "I got painkillers in this thing. You want one?" Nelun nods definitively. "Yes..yes. Lots." Kiriel nods, keeping one hand pressing down lightly on the wound while she reaches down with the other into the kit. The thing is surprisingly well stocked given that it is owned by someone who calls herself a street musician, and she comes up with a pair of pills which she brings up for Nelun to take. "Here, pal. This'll help a little. You have these, you can have some more in six hours if you need 'em, 'kay?" Nelun stops, pausing to stare at the pills for a moment, as if not trusting them. His gaze suddenly turns to the girl, frowning and then taking the pills from her hand and stuffing in his mouth. "mmpf--Phank you..." "Welcome. They're not much, just standard-issue, but they might help. Hold still," Kiriel goes on, reaching into the medikit again. She comes up with a packet which she introduces as, "Synthflesh. Treated with bacta. It won't patch you up pretty, but it should help. Gonna slap this on here." And she opens up the packet, then, to do just that. Nelun_Good This relatively short, but lean, Human male is dressed in rather thrown together clothes. He is covered in auburn brown hair which parts unevenly and messily over his head. But two clear dark brown eyes jut out from under perpetually thin brows. Other than having noticeably grimy fingernails, mussed hair, and being rather scruffy-looking, he is also discernably withdrawn. He is wearing a dark grey shirt, riddled with dirt spots and the noticeable border of sweat on his chest and underarms. A pair of crinkled black pants houses an overstuffed left pocket, luring easy pickpocketing, but repulsing with gross filth. The pungent smell of sweat combined with other excretions permeates the air. Nelun shrinks back, "It won't hurt?" Kiriel pauses, considering her charge and his expression, then bringing the packet forward for him to see while she keeps the hand with the cloth pressing down gently on his leg. "Here, check it out. Synthflesh and bacta, see? You know what synthflesh is?" Her tone's turned gentler again. Nelun blinks, batting his eyes open and closed a few times, as if remembering. He looks a the packet, noting the general description and application use, and then, the ingredients. "Yes...it's familiar." _Said he was a doctor..._ Kiriel doesn't voice that thought, though, but only nods firmly, moving to open the packet and start the work of patching her patient's leg as she's promised. Once freed of the packet, and slapped down on wounded flesh, the synthetic stuff conforms to the shape of the leg, firm, but not constricting. "Hold still, now," Kiriel advises. "Just wanna make sure it holds... how you doin'?" She casts a green glance back up at her patient's face again. "Rrrgh." Nelun grimaces. His arms are folded over his face. "My sentiments exactly," replies Kiriel, almost amused. She ponders, then lifts her hands off the synth-patch now attached to Nelun's leg, and after a moment, she delves into the medikit again. This time she comes up with sterile gauze, and for good measure, she starts winding this into an outer bandage for the wound. "That oughtta do it..." Letting out one last brief sigh, Nelun settles into the couch. He quickly looses consciousness, voluntarily this time. [To be continued....]