“You’re covered in blood! Is it yours?” from Q for Sebastian
He is quite aware of it, unfortunately. He’s reached the point where most of the blood on him is starting to turn from tacky to almost dry. It’ll start to itch and flake and fall off soon enough, and then he’ll really have to do some clean up. “Some of it.” It feels like a cliché, but it’s true. Some of it is his, and a lot of it belongs to a man who is very much no longer alive. Sebastian cleaned his face earlier, at least, though there’s plenty of it staining his neck. The important thing is making sure that he was good to operate for the rest of however long was necessary, and a bloody face would run a lot of risks. He feels fine, though. Relatively.
“I’ve got a few cuts -” typical of someone surprised to meet someone else who’d armed themselves with a knife - “but nothing you’d need to worry about. I won’t go about dripping on the carpet or anything.” Some of it’s posturing - they probably do need to get cleaned up a little, just in case of the unlikely event that there was something on the blade - plus he’s been told before thath proper wound care is essential or something like that. Seb knows what he can handle, though.
“I’m not usually one for stabbings - I’d forgotten just how much a man can bleed.” A lot of that is false. While it’s true that Sebastian highly preferred guns when he had the choice, it wasn’t like he knew nothing about knife fighting at all. And obviously, he knew quite well just how much people bled. That was obvious even from afar. Just more annoying when he had to deal with it. “Is this a polite way of telling me to go change?”
