Alba - A Misunderstood Medic

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Description: A injured Alba is travelling his way through the ruined streets of Southtown, making his way to the Dragon's Den. Unfortunately, he gets interrupted by another /ferocious/ Darkstalker, Lyraelle. And she seems hell-bent on... Healing.. his Injuries?

Humiliated, defeated. And blackmailed into meeting the leader behind this whole operation. Alba is steadily walking his way to the beach front and- Quite literally, The Dragon's Den.

He is clutching his still-healing wounds as he travels slowly but surely amongst the deserted streets. Wearing his usual bright red jacket, and black underclothes. Although splattered with blood, and having large rends and cuts all over them as a result of Fenrir's razor-sharp claws.

The urban streets are littered with corpses and destruction. Over-turned cars, broken windows, bruised-in trashcans. One of the streets hit by the darkstalker rampage no doubt. But thankfully for Alba, most of the beasts will have made their way to other parts of the city by now. Looking for fresh meat.

It's times like these that can bring out the best in people. It's also times like these that can bring out the worst in people.

And sometimes, times like these can bring out the best in people in the worst way.

Such is the case for Air Nurse Royal Rescue Lyraelle, the result of an overly-intimate encounter with a kindly priest bringing out the Demon Queen's alruistic potential without suppressing her ambition or flamboyant personality. Enveloped from the neck down in a white sheet of some kind, the pink-haired princess poseur flies around the skies just above the streets in search of those in need.

"Hold stiiill~ I'm here to help!"

The words come from above and behind Alba moments before Lyraelle swoops past the slow-moving, savaged Southtown gangster. She hovers on her dark wings, floating backward to keep herself at the same distance from Alba as her green eyes look him over. At a closer distance, one can guess that the sheet might actually be a tablecloth. Overall, she looks as though she decided to go for a night out trick-or-treating and got confused as to whether she wanted to be a ghost or a demoness.

"That looks nasty. One sec~"

With that, the demoness spins in mid-air, and with a single motion the cloth is flung away to land on a fire hydrant nearby, revealing the leotard-clad demoness underneath - and a first aid kit held in the purple glove worn over her right hand.

"Don't worry, I took a first aid course once! Do you need Cee-Pee-Arr?"

Alba flinches and takes a few steps backwards, the form of the demon-like darkstalker suddenly entering his vision. Another one out to get him? Some sort of Succubus, a trickster? He doesn't have time- or energy for this.

He backs further away from the fire-hydrant, assuming the worst of the situation.

Another enemy.

He takes his best fighting pose, the cuts painfully opening up as he stretches his arms. "Leave me alone, or you'll come to regret it." He tries to speak in his usual calm, serious tone. But growls of pain, and stutterings in his voice tell a different tale. He is battered, broken down. And incapable of doing much more then his current, slow walking pace. He can only stare- as menacingly as possible towards the demon queen, hoping that it's enough to make her leave him alone.

"Look, I think you might be concussed or something," Lyraelle says as she flaps threateningly closer, her other hand moving to the medical box to hold it up and pop it open. She starts to rummage around in the box with one gloved hand, before pulling out a box of off-brand Band-Aid-alikes. Obviously, the best cure for a concussion.

"I'm gonna patch you up. This'll take, like, ten minutes. Twenty tops. Trust me, you'll feel better~"

Lyraelle floats ever closer to Alba, reaching out to try and take hold of one of his arms and move it out of the way as she leans forward to try and get a close look at the wounds on Alba's body.

"Show me where it hurts~"

Unfortunately, the wannabe demonic doctor seems to be completely ignoring Alba's order, let alone his personal bubble. On the upside, if he's going to do something about it, she's leaving herself pretty exposed.

COMBATSYS: Lyraelle has started a fight here.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Lyraelle         0/-------/-------|

COMBATSYS: Alba has joined the fight here on the right meter side.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Lyraelle         0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0             Alba

COMBATSYS: Lyraelle offers the support of the crown to her minion!

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Lyraelle         0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0             Alba

Did she even hear him? and, band-aids for deep cuts like these? She is either insane, or hiding malicious intentions. "I don't have a damn concussion. What are you-" And as she reaches for his arm, Alba sees an obvious opening. He instantly lashes out both arms, grabbing her shoulders and /pushing/ her away with all force he can muster.

"Didn't you hear me? Leave. Me. Alone!"

COMBATSYS: Lyraelle blocks Alba's Quick Throw.

[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Lyraelle         0/-------/------=|==-----\-------\0             Alba

The infernal nurse is seemingly entirely heedless of the warnings given to her, right up until the point that Alba's hands wind up on her bare shoulders. One could practically imagine the exclamation point appearing over her head as her eyes go wide, moments before she's shoved into the nearby wall. The first aid kit flies up into the air, threatening to spill its contents everywhere. At the last second, the demoness' wings spread open, catching on the brickwork and dampening the worst of the collision, though she still flinches. Miraculously, the succubus' tail manages to catch the kit out of the air with all the agility of a rattlesnake, looping between the halves of the handle to snap it shut and take hold of it, only the band-aids left to fall and spill over the asphalt.

"Okay, I'm going to ignore the violation of my royal personage on the grounds that you're /clearly/ delirious with pain right now. Now, let me fix you!!"

With that, the demoness swoops toward Alba, trying to get behind him so that she can pin him by wrapping her arms and legs over his in something resembling a full nelson with leg scissors. Perhaps not knowing her own strength, as the tenacity and strength with which she's trying to grip him may well cause more damage than she hopes to fix!

"Hold still!~"

COMBATSYS: Lyraelle successfully hits Alba with Power Throw.
- Power hit! -

[  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////       ]
Lyraelle         0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\0             Alba

The young gangster's "attack" was rendered unsuccesfull, as Lyraelle manages to dampen the impact significantly. Did that scare her off?

Of course not.

The Demon Queen's attempts at helping him go completely awry as she holds him in her nelson. He was unable to react in time due to his injuries, and his poor arms and legs get heavily bruised under the woman's significant strength. He lets out a yell of pain "Get off of me, you nutjob!"

The adrenaline of the sudden fight surges through his body, and he bashes his elbow backwards- towards Lyraelle's stomach twice. Attempting to break her hold.

COMBATSYS: Lyraelle endures Alba's Fierce Punch.

[       \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////       ]
Lyraelle         0/-------/-======|=======\=====--\1             Alba

Indeed, it seems that in her aggressive need to 'help,' Lyraelle is entirely failing to uphold the Hippocratic Oath. She clings on tight, suffering through the elbow strikes to the midsection with only a grimace and clenched teeth. Unfortunately, it seems that her patience for her patient's impatience isn't near the end of its thread. In fact, it seems as though the Demon Queen's attentions are like quicksand; the more that Alba struggles in them, the more they endeavour to consume him.

"You're being unreasonable! That hurts, you know! Now, just cooperate! I know what I'm doing!"

Worryingly, Lyraelle seems to believe what she's saying.

As the tangled pair back toward the wall, Lyraelle's wings push against the bricks, using them to propel the two of them back toward the other side of the alley, the pink-haired demoness trying to pin Alba up against the wall by pressing up against his back with her chest while her hands try to pin his wrists against it.

COMBATSYS: Lyraelle successfully hits Alba with Combo Grapple.
- Power hit! -

[       \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////////////             ]
Lyraelle         0/-------/=======|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2             Alba

I'm being unreasonable?! You're being u- Gah!" He grunts out in pain as he is slammed against the wall with ferocious force...

Did that break a rib?

Alba is hurting. Bad. He already was hurting from his deep cuts, cuts that are opening up because of his sudden movements. And add bruises and potential broken bones to that, and you have a double whammy of pain. The gangster comes to the realization that he has /no/ chance to beat this lady.

So, he lets himself be pressed against the hard bricks, not resisting further as his wrists are painfully pushed against the wall.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" His calm exterior is completely shattered as he starts yelling at his 'doctor'

"Have you ever heard of the phrase 'minding your own business'?!"

COMBATSYS: Alba drops his guard to recover.

[       \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////        ]
Lyraelle         0/-------/=======|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2             Alba

It's said that some predatory animals may appear to be attacking, when in reality they're playing with their prey with no intent to harm. It's also said that in these cases, the best thing to do is abandon all resistance, to 'play dead,' until the predator in question stops thrashing the prey around. Lyraelle may or may not be playing, but the prinicple seems the same. Going completely still is the sensible thing to do, in this case.

And it might have worked, a few moments earlier.

As is, Alba's shouting is just enough to cause the Demon Queen's royal pot to boil over.

"Alright, mister. That does it!"

The tone in her voice and scowl on her face suggests that she's oblivious to the fact that Alba has actually given up his struggle.

"All I'm doing is trying to help, and I'm too NICE to let you run around like that! So, this is for your own good!"

With that, she'll attempt to trip him onto the ground, releasing him from her clutches before she leaps into the air, somersaulting through a single rotation away from Alba. Then, with her back to the Southtown ganglord, she'll swing her legs up and hook her hands under her knees, upper body bending down as she folds into a demonoid torpedo - then, with a flap of her wings to push her backward, she'll fly backside-first at Alba, attempting to crash into whichever part of him happen to be in the way of her demonic derriere before pinning him underneath it.

IF she succeeds in doing so, her tail will set down the box it's been carrying before trying to entangle Alba's legs or arms to keep him from escaping or struggling. If it does, he'll feel a mild metaphysical tugging sensation sapping at his strength - though at least the Demon Queen doesn't seem to be intent on feeding on him beyond as a sedative method.

COMBATSYS: Alba blocks Lyraelle's Royal Requisition - Dark Queen's Throne.

[        \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////               ]
Lyraelle         0/-------/----===|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2             Alba

Alba surrendered, so he'll be fine, right? Even this lady isn't stupid enough to- Oh god here she comes again. "Wait- no-" Alba gets tripped and knocked to the ground face-first. But he manages to turn around and sit against the wall, crossing his arms in front of his face as the queen's backside comes crashing towards it.

The attack is blocked, but the sheer impact of it still smashes through his guard. Her soft... bum collides with his face, smashing the back of his head further against the wall he's leaning against. His arms are quickly seized by the succubus's tail as he's recovering from the impact.

"Hmmm mhmhhm Hgmm" Alba attempts talking, but the sound is muffled beyond recognition by the queen's backside. "Hgh hmmth". The gangster feels his strength further slipping away from him. Oh, how much he wants to kick this lady's face in right now. But he decides against it, not wanting to take the risk with his injured body. Instead laying still again, albeit ready to defend himself in the case that Lyraelle still keeps attacking.

COMBATSYS: Alba gains composure.

[        \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////            ]
Lyraelle         0/-------/---====|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\1             Alba

With her dominance established (?), the demonic nurse of questionable credentials seems to overcome her momentary lapse in patience. Her gloved hands reach out and pull the medical kit into easy reach, popping it open, and she starts to dig into it again. Her pointed ears perk up at the sound of the muffled voice behind her.

"What's that? You're sorry?"

Luckily, Her Royal Highness seems to interpret Alba's incomprehensible words as exactly what she wants to hear.

"That's okay, I won't hold it against you. Clearly it's just the blood loss causing oxygen starvation in your brain."

She pulls out a roll of proper bandages this time, along with a bottle of disinfectant.

"Here we go. Now, let's have a look at you~ Can you tell me where it hurts?"

After awaiting a response for a second, Lyraelle turns her head over her shoulder, looking confused for a moment, before realising that the gangster's current predicament may be impeding his ability to respond.

%"Oh, sorry! One sec~"

With that, the Demon Queen will try and scoot around so that she's in a less oppressive pose where she can access the man's injuries for bandaging and disinfection, though still trying to remain on top of Alba.

For his own good, of course.

"Just to warn you, this might sting..."

COMBATSYS: Lyraelle focuses on her next action.

[        \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////            ]
Lyraelle         0/-------/---====|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\1             Alba

COMBATSYS: Alba has left the fight here.

[        \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Lyraelle         0/-------/---====|

When Lyraelle finally shifts her position, Alba heavily breathes in and out, taking in the oxygen he couldn't reach a second ago. "Why.. did you.. do that? I surrendered already.." She is insane. Why is she so hell-bent on healing the injuries *she* in part inflicted?

Alba feels humiliated, by both the darkstalker opponents he has faced in the last few hours.

He had to surrender. twice.

He got sat on. twice

He'll have to humor her 'doctoring' so he can get out of this ridiculous situation as fast as he possibly can. He has wasted enough time with this farce.

Besides, she can't be that bad of a doctor, right?

The gangster sighs. Deeply. And puts on a fake smile "It would be just *lovely* if you could take care of those cuts for me, love." His upper body, and especially arms have many surface-level cuts in them. He has a handful of deeper that luckily haven't touched his vital organs. The wounds are fresh, but the blood has dried enough for them to not actively bleed any longer.

If the persistent pink-haired paramedic poseur detects the sarcasm that Alba's gratitude is seasoned with, she shows no sign of tasting it. Instead, she rubs the disinfectant on the palms of her purple gloves, then dabs it onto the first bandage. She stretches out a length of it, then slices it free with a pair of medical scissors from the kit.

"Alright, let's start with the arms. You might need to take your jacket off, or something."

She holds the length of bandage between her thumbs and forefingers, one green eye squinting shut as she compares the strip of fabric with one of the cuts on Alba's arm. Proportionally speaking, if it's the ratio she intends to use, he might end up a bit mummified by the time that she's done.

"So, how'd this end up happening?" she asks, her tone chirpy and conversational as she sets to work. She may not be a certifiable nurse, but she's at least competent and equipped enough to make sure some wounds are bandaged in a relatively sanitary fashion.

COMBATSYS: Lyraelle has ended the fight here.

"Now how would i do that? You are still restraining my arms with that frea- uh, pretty tail of yours." He slightly pulls apart his arms, to make her realize that the tail is still wrapped tightly around them. Though- it seems she is genuinely trying to help..

But that doesn't make this any less strange.

Alba looks at Lyraelle with his grey eyes, begrudgingly responding to her question as his wounds are being treated. "A wolf. one of the big ones that have been plowing through southtown. Couldn't defeat it."

"Do you mind getting off of me, love? " The Demon Queen is sitting painfully on his chest, putting pressure on his back that was slammed into the wall less then two minutes ago "You're kinda.. hurting me."

The tail in question slithers its way from Alba's wrists, uncoiling and liberating the ganglord's hands with the slightest hint of hesitation. Simultaneously the demoness edges backwards onto her knees, still hovering above the man but relinquishing the pressure of her weight on the man's person.

"Right. In that case, you might want to be careful of rabies. And, you know, chain yourself up on the next full moon, just to be safe. I could help with that. Might be good content. Especially if, you know, you /do/ turn."

After giving Alba some more space for a bit, Lyraelle holds up the strip of bandage again. "Alright, let's get this on you. I think there's probably a lot of patients out there waiting, and you seem like you're in a hurry for some reason."

"Yes i -am- in a hurry. So this interruption is just amazing." Alba does as he is told and takes off his jacket, before rolling up the sleeves of the black overall underneath it. He breathes out a sigh of relief as she moves from that sore spot.

"Content? Who even are you? Is assaulting people to treat their injuries a common occurence?" He asks with a frustrated tone.

He keeps laying limply against the wall as the self-proclaimed nurse starts to patch him up. "Would you mind hurrying this up? If i don't arrive at my destination in time there soon won't be anything left to heal."

"Well, I'm glad you think so," Lyraelle says with a sweet smile that could be either entirely sarcastic or alarmingly sincere in response to Alba's declaration. Given the room and leave to work, she's surprisingly efficient; she doesn't appear to have much experience with treating wounded patients, so the work is a bit rougher than what a proper medical professional might provide, but it's at least good enough to make sure there's an appropriate amount of pressure on each bandaged injury without severing circulation completely. As far as speed goes, what she lacks in expertise, she makes up for in energy and inappropriate levels of self-confidence.

"Content. You know, we could livestream it. 'First Time Werewolf Transformation???' Add a picture of a werewolf next to your face screaming, instant clickbait. I'm Demon Queen Lyraelle, by the way. On FightTube. You can thank me by being my sub."

She carries on as she cuts and sterilizes more strips of bandage, wrapping each in turn around a different wound. "And no, I didn't assault you. I was restraining you for your own good. You looked like you were in shock and gonna bleed out. This isn't what I normally do, but I'm doing penance. Charity work. A lot of people need help right now."

The demoness tilts her pink-covered crown as she sits back to examine her handiwork. "How's that feel? And where are you off to in such a hurry? I could give you an airlift if it's an emergency. Like a medivac."

You know, this isn't all too bad.

Even though she inflicted some nasty bruises on Alba, she handles the wounds with surprising competency. "FightTube, huh? I'll pass on that. I'm Alba Meira." He responds. "And I don't think lycantrophy is contagious anyways. It'd make for a lousy video."

"A lot of people *do* need help right now, I failed miserably in giving them that help. I guess even you are more useful then me." he evaluates, letting out some of today's frustrations.

And finally, the treatment is done. And Alba can stand up from his uncomfortable position. He takes a deep breath, hesitating for a moment. And looks at Lyraelle with a neutral expression. "Thank you Lyraelle. It feels better." he continues "But next time, ask for -consent- when healing someone." he moves his body around a bit, testing the effectiveness of the bandages "I'll be fine walking. I'm sure you have many other /patients/ to attend too.

"Well, better safe than sorry. Your choice," Lyraelle says with a flick of her ponytail, one hand reaching up to brush her bangs out of her face once she's on her feet. "Hey, just because you lost a fight doesn't mean that you didn't help. Somebody else could have been on the receiving end of what you got. And, well, you shouldn't feel bad for not being as useful as me. I'm naturally advantaged, after all."

The remark is made as a statement of fact, and as she makes it, she pulls a small camera seemingly from nowhere.

"Alright! Now, all I need from you is a selfie for my Insta."

Her tail picks up the first aid kit from the ground and holds it up as she turns to one side so that she can get a shot with the kit and patient in frame. She raise her free hand into a stereotypical sideways V next to her eye as she smiles and winks at the camera.


And a second later, she'll take the picture, whether Alba is ready or not.

"Cocky." Alba returns, judging her carefree and confident attitude. He turns his back to her, picking up his jacket from the urban bricks to shake off the dirt. He puts it back on, being careful not to touch the bandages in the process.

Then, he doesn't see Lyraelle grabbing the camera. And only turns his head towards her once she starts talking "Wait, a selfi-"


The young gangster fully turns around and starts angrily pacing towards the Fight-Tuber, and tries to put a hand on her shoulder. "Delete that. I can't risk having my face plastered on the internet."

It's a natural reaction to tense the muscles in your back when someone places a hand unexpectedly on your shoulder. Lyraelle's reaction, then, is an unnatural one. She doesn't flinch or try and pull away in the slightest; she seems completely relaxed despite the touch. In fact, she gets another picture in with the hand still on her frame.

"Fine, I won't post these."

She turns her head to look at Alba with a bright-eyed smile.

"You can find some other way to repay me, then," she says, tilting her head in a manner that might be cute if it weren't for the subtly threatening undertone of her words. "I'll just hold onto the pics as a reminder. You're in a hurry to be somewhere, aren't you?"

With those words, she starts to step away from Alba, her wings unfurling as if she intends to take flight.

"You'll have to explain to me sometime why you'd get yourself mauled trying to save the city, but don't want good publicity for it..."

"Why you.."

Alba removes his hand from her shoulder, letting it fall limply to his side. "You're making this sound like some sort of blackmail.. i've had enough of that for one day."

"But Fine. If i ever happen to see you again, we can talk." The Gangster concedes. But immeadiatly mumbles a follow up under his breath "Here's hoping that won't happen." He assumes Lyraelle didn't hear that, and finishes the conversation. "Good luck with your Charity work."

He walks away, in the same direction he was going initially. Moving smoother and a little faster thanks to the Demon Queen's bindings. Back on the road..

On his way to the Mercenary Queen

With a slight hop, Lyraelle takes to the air, her wings easily keeping her aloft. She turns around, tail swinging with the motion as she does, and puts her hands together in front of her middle, fingertips and thumbs pressing together to form the shape of a heart.

"Don't think of it as blackmail. Think of it as friendship!"

She tilts her head to one side again with a wink.

"And don't worry... if you can't find me, I'll find you!"

She spins in the air and stretches a hand out extravagantly toward the sky, the first aid kit rattling in her tail's grip.

"Good luck with whatever it is you were gonna bleed out over!"

And with that, she's up into the air, soaring off in search of whatever poor, unfortunate soul might be in need.

Log created on 08:34:35 04/07/2020 by Alba, and last modified on 06:44:32 04/09/2020.