[h3][color=f26522]Tori[/color][/h3]

Tori only managed to stagger up to the brunette holding the medical kit that was walking towards her after someone else had already started talking to said medic. Her head was swimming, and she was having trouble even limping right, let alone walking. Some detached part of her knew that it was a very, very bad thing, and that despite first appearances, she'd probably hit a vein or something and was, in all likelihood, going to die of blood loss, or have to manually cauterize the wound. In her haste to not die horribly, she'd stripped away the tanktop and wrapped it around the slash, shivering in her leather coat. Her teeth chattered, and she was reminded vividly of the cold of the train car cell. She looked down at her hand. It was ghostly white, anaemic in its pallor, and she clenched it as hard as she could, gritting her teeth as though in denial of the crimson fluid seeping from it. The tanktop wasn't really doing much.

"[color=f26522]Nah, not okay,[/color]" she gasped out as soon as she was close enough to the much older girl, "[color=f26522]could use a hand over here. I'm going to go ahead and assume this is more important than whatever this guy's deal is[/color]," she said, pointing a thumb at food boy. "[color=f26522]No hard feelings[/color]," she added to him as an afterthought.

"[color=f26522]So yeah[/color]," she gasped out, "[color=f26522]I could use a really fuckin' big plaster[/color]."

With that, she slid off the makeshift bandage, peeling it off with blood sluicing away from it. She still didn't know how deep it went, but it probably would've been a good idea to clean it in the stream.

"[color=f26522]I could cauterize it[/color]," she grunted, flicking her lighter and swaying dizzily from side to side, "[color=f26522]but I'd really not do that if I don't have to to live. Shit hurts[/color]."

Past her tough exterior, her eyes betrayed a series of emotions and sensations: pain, confusion, anger, fear, all mixing together into a rising storm of panic that was becoming increasingly difficult for her to clamp down on. She was rapidly becoming more disoriented, and she was pretty sure she was starting to hallucinate. At this point, she wasn't sure whether or not she was crying, but she fervently hoped that she wasn't. It wasn't very good for her image.

[@dreamingflowers]