mandalus :: the city of fates.

( Cut for descriptions of dying )

[Julian addresses the network with his voice. He can't text--between his fading vision and shaking hands it would be impossible. But he doesn't want anyone to see him, either.

His voice is as steady as he can make it.]

It's starting. We're running out of time.

[He manages to cough, it's thick and wet and hurts terribly to do so. He estimates no more than an hour before he's dead. Perhaps half that will be spent unconscious, but he'll hang on as long as possible.]

I'm sorry.

[For what, he's not sure--his mind can't focus easily, but he thinks he needs to apologize for something. Everything.]

( Read more... )

Well, a new world is hardly what I expected to see today.

[He tries on a smile--it’s just as worn as he looks--he would be far worse off, he was sure, if he didn't have certain advantages, but after weeks of mistreatment, malnourishment, and dehydration on top of that--he's certainly not doing well. The marks of rank are removed from his collar, attached to the inside of his sleeve instead--there's nothing to distinguish him as a Starfleet officer, or indeed anything but a scruffy man in strange clothing.]

My name is Julian Bashir. I do hate to be a bother, but I’m in a bit of a bind and could use some help. I've been told I should get off this beach and to cover, but...well, I'm afraid I'm not able to walk that far at the moment.

[He shrugs disarmingly, one hand wide open off to the side.]

I'd appreciate even being pointed to somewhere a touch closer. Thank you.