Post by thebutlerdidit on Feb 14, 2013 19:33:46 GMT -5
It was night. Tristan sat down on a park bench. He was exhausted, it wasn't easy to escape the security guards at a multimillion dollar casino. The bright lights did damage on his very sensitive blue eyes. But he kept his compose. He didn't falter at all. He found no lodging, no places to get food, and no way to contact anyone. This park was thankfully away from the bright lights and loud noises. This place was quieter and more peaceful. He dressed his wound and put some Sodium Chlorate on his shoulder.
He was about to fall into sleep when he heard a very loud scream. His head raised, he saw a man, human, crumpled on the ground under a street lamp. Other people ran to his rescue. Tristan hurried over, when analyzed his newest patient, he saw a gaping, bloody wound in his right lung.
"Everyone step back! OK, what I'll need is a scalpel, a magnifier, a pair of forceps, a latex tube, and a artificial-breather," Tristan looked at the humans around him and their blank or confused faces. He sighed, "OK, how about a pocket knife, a pair of reading glasses, some eyebrow tweezers, a bottle of perfume, and a straw like object?" People fumbled for these items. A teenage girl gave him tweezers and a perfume bottle with a squeezer-bag type thing on the end. An elderly lady gave him her glasses, and a hunter looking guy gave him a hunting knife and a straw from the drink he had.
A tracheotomy is when a person must get their trachea either removed or punctured to allow them to breathe. Tristan used the knife to cut open his throat, blood spurted and the girl threw up. He put on the glasses. God, there was almost no light casted on his patient, but this didn't disrupt his makeshift surgery. He then inserted the straw into the cut and emptied the perfume bottle. He connected the bottle to the straw and pumped air into his lungs.
"This will NOT hold him for long. You," Tristan stated, pointing to a college-age-looking girl, not the one that had given him the bottle, "Keep pumping this, stay on the left of him," she dropped her books and knelt down to start pumping the perfume bottle. Tristan dug into the patient's lung trying for the bullet, "What?" He stated to himself. "What's wrong?" the girl questioned, "There's no bullet!" Tristan replied. He didn't understand, from what he saw there was no exit wound, and it was the width of a bullet.
He heard sirens. The emergency paramedics came to the rescue. They took him away to the hospital. The group then broke. As Tristan walked away, the girl who had helped him yelled, "Hey!" Tristan walked faster, but he was cut off by her. "I saw your eyes, and I can tell that you're not human" Tristan's eyes widened and he was about to break into a run, but he was once again cut off by her, "Wait, I won't tell anyone. "How can you tell they aren't human?" He asked, "I study multibiology. It's when you-" He cut her off, "I know what it is, I also studied it," He replied in a plain tone.
"Wait. Studied multibiology, sky blue eyes, pointing to a Carothian, can do surgery out of thin air- GASP" She looked at him with wide green eyes, "OH MY GOD! YOU'RE TRISTAN, THE KING OF-" He covered her mouth, "SHHHHH!!! Do you know how much trouble I can get into if they know I'm here?!?! Yes, I'm Tristan, King of Caroth," He removed his hood, showing his white hair, blue eyes, and white horn. She gasped again, "Wow, I've never seen a Carothian up close!" He gave her a poisonous look, "Oh, sorry, I didn't hope to insult you, um, my Lord, I guess." He dropped his shoulders and let out a breath. "Please don't call me that. Or else I'll start questioning about why you're not racist," She gave him a questioning look, "Humans are racist to you?"
"Most aliens, at least on this planet they are. I was shot in a casino." He showed her his wound. Then a male voice sounded behind her. "Hey Coraline! Who're you talking to?" She turned around, "Oh well this is-" She turned back around, but Tristan was gone.
He was about to fall into sleep when he heard a very loud scream. His head raised, he saw a man, human, crumpled on the ground under a street lamp. Other people ran to his rescue. Tristan hurried over, when analyzed his newest patient, he saw a gaping, bloody wound in his right lung.
"Everyone step back! OK, what I'll need is a scalpel, a magnifier, a pair of forceps, a latex tube, and a artificial-breather," Tristan looked at the humans around him and their blank or confused faces. He sighed, "OK, how about a pocket knife, a pair of reading glasses, some eyebrow tweezers, a bottle of perfume, and a straw like object?" People fumbled for these items. A teenage girl gave him tweezers and a perfume bottle with a squeezer-bag type thing on the end. An elderly lady gave him her glasses, and a hunter looking guy gave him a hunting knife and a straw from the drink he had.
A tracheotomy is when a person must get their trachea either removed or punctured to allow them to breathe. Tristan used the knife to cut open his throat, blood spurted and the girl threw up. He put on the glasses. God, there was almost no light casted on his patient, but this didn't disrupt his makeshift surgery. He then inserted the straw into the cut and emptied the perfume bottle. He connected the bottle to the straw and pumped air into his lungs.
"This will NOT hold him for long. You," Tristan stated, pointing to a college-age-looking girl, not the one that had given him the bottle, "Keep pumping this, stay on the left of him," she dropped her books and knelt down to start pumping the perfume bottle. Tristan dug into the patient's lung trying for the bullet, "What?" He stated to himself. "What's wrong?" the girl questioned, "There's no bullet!" Tristan replied. He didn't understand, from what he saw there was no exit wound, and it was the width of a bullet.
He heard sirens. The emergency paramedics came to the rescue. They took him away to the hospital. The group then broke. As Tristan walked away, the girl who had helped him yelled, "Hey!" Tristan walked faster, but he was cut off by her. "I saw your eyes, and I can tell that you're not human" Tristan's eyes widened and he was about to break into a run, but he was once again cut off by her, "Wait, I won't tell anyone. "How can you tell they aren't human?" He asked, "I study multibiology. It's when you-" He cut her off, "I know what it is, I also studied it," He replied in a plain tone.
"Wait. Studied multibiology, sky blue eyes, pointing to a Carothian, can do surgery out of thin air- GASP" She looked at him with wide green eyes, "OH MY GOD! YOU'RE TRISTAN, THE KING OF-" He covered her mouth, "SHHHHH!!! Do you know how much trouble I can get into if they know I'm here?!?! Yes, I'm Tristan, King of Caroth," He removed his hood, showing his white hair, blue eyes, and white horn. She gasped again, "Wow, I've never seen a Carothian up close!" He gave her a poisonous look, "Oh, sorry, I didn't hope to insult you, um, my Lord, I guess." He dropped his shoulders and let out a breath. "Please don't call me that. Or else I'll start questioning about why you're not racist," She gave him a questioning look, "Humans are racist to you?"
"Most aliens, at least on this planet they are. I was shot in a casino." He showed her his wound. Then a male voice sounded behind her. "Hey Coraline! Who're you talking to?" She turned around, "Oh well this is-" She turned back around, but Tristan was gone.