summersaint: (003)
𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚟𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚓𝚔 ([personal profile] summersaint) wrote in [community profile] newcombers 2024-05-28 09:28 pm (UTC)

The thank you has Holland looking like he's just bitten into a lemon and is confused about why it tastes that way. When was the last time he was thanked? Can he even remember?

He catches the backpack, and gives the kid a sharp nod. Good thinking. He doesn't know what's in these backpacks, but there might be something useful in there. Holland takes a second to go through it -- he comes up with a ring, a rectangular device, a notebook, some other things, nothing medical, annoyingly -- and slings it over his shoulder, going to do what he can to help others out of the train.

It doesn't take long. Most of them had seemingly already found their way out, smoke-tinged and confused as they sit on the grass of this strange campus they've found their way to. The pain of his broken arm is starting to slow him, dragging at the edge of his resolve, and by the time he returns to the kid he's starting to feel exhausted. He's pushed through much worse.

"You have two options," he greets brusquely. "I can set and splint your arm for you with what little supplies I can find. Or, I overheard that there's a medical center here, and you can take your chances with them."

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