[For a moment Alfred does nothing but watch the poor pitiful man before him, naked, bloody and mewling as if he had just been born from some awful womb, his expression one of detached impassivity. But once again the voice of Bruce, dead and gone but who seems to have now taken up residence within Alfred's mind, speaks up.
Help him.]
Yes, Master B. [Alfred whispers and moves to unbutton his vest and then shirt, shrugging off the latter so that he may kneel down next to Oswald and drape it over his bare shoulders.]
Try not to move. You'll only hurt yourself more, sir.
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Date: 2024-07-30 04:22 am (UTC)Help him.]
Yes, Master B. [Alfred whispers and moves to unbutton his vest and then shirt, shrugging off the latter so that he may kneel down next to Oswald and drape it over his bare shoulders.]
Try not to move. You'll only hurt yourself more, sir.