[Alex groans softly, coming around after the chaos of unexpected crash landing, the ship filled with the sound of alarms and screaming until the power suddenly cuts out. Nothing smells right and Alex is reeling under the confusion of what had happened, but one thing was perfectly clear: he hurt all over. He grunts softly, grimacing at a stab of pain above his left eye, and lifts a hand only to draw it back with blood on his fingers. He can feel it running down his face, sticky at the edge of his unbound hair.
His golden eyes open and he looks blearily around the ship, trying to piece together what the he'll had happened. He'd only just left a modeling gig and was on his way back home when... everything just went dark. He frowns, trying to remember what had happened or how he'd gotten here, but it's all just a blank.
The heavily metallic scent of blood hangs in the air, mixed with the burnt electric smell of fried wires and fire. It's the former that worries him the most, as there is no power any longer, nor the sharp scent of gasoline that might warn of an impending explosion. He tries to focus again, body already beginning to heal itself of its injuries; a benefit of his lycanthropy. Fumbling with the criss-cross belt across his chest, he finally manages to release the catch and pulls it up and over his head, grunting as his head spins again.
And then Newt trips over his legs.
Alex reaches out to help steady the other boy, waving the apology away with one hand.]
It's fine... You okay? [Asks the guy with the bleeding head wound; but if Newt pays attention, he might notice that the bleeding begins to slow and the gash appears to be closing as he watches.]
Alex Marsters // OC wereleopard
His golden eyes open and he looks blearily around the ship, trying to piece together what the he'll had happened. He'd only just left a modeling gig and was on his way back home when... everything just went dark. He frowns, trying to remember what had happened or how he'd gotten here, but it's all just a blank.
The heavily metallic scent of blood hangs in the air, mixed with the burnt electric smell of fried wires and fire. It's the former that worries him the most, as there is no power any longer, nor the sharp scent of gasoline that might warn of an impending explosion. He tries to focus again, body already beginning to heal itself of its injuries; a benefit of his lycanthropy. Fumbling with the criss-cross belt across his chest, he finally manages to release the catch and pulls it up and over his head, grunting as his head spins again.
And then Newt trips over his legs.
Alex reaches out to help steady the other boy, waving the apology away with one hand.]
It's fine... You okay? [Asks the guy with the bleeding head wound; but if Newt pays attention, he might notice that the bleeding begins to slow and the gash appears to be closing as he watches.]